Finding Harm
by MAJ8395
Summary: Harm searches for his missing father. In the process, he discovers love and finds himself.
1. Missing

_A/N: The idea for this story popped into my head a few days ago. I think all of us agree Mac had a messed up childhood—a drunken father, a mother who abandoned her, turning to alcohol at an early age, a failed marriage._

 _But Harm, although raised by a loving mother and stepfather, didn't have an ideal childhood either. It couldn't have been easy for a young boy to understand why the father he adored was missing and likely not coming home._

 _We learned bits and pieces about Harm's life and the search for his father in several episodes—A New Life, Déjà Vu, The Prisoner, Ghost Ship, People vs. Rabb, culminating with To Russia With Love and Gypsy Eyes. We later learn more about Harm Sr. in Ghosts of Christmas Past and Legacy._

 _This story is set mostly during season three and four. It will be slightly A/U, but several events will follow the series. I'm not sure how long this story will be, but I intend to delve a little more into Harm's personality and the events that caused him to become the man he was. Let's face it, for all his smooth exterior and cocky aviator personality, he needed to deal with some emotional issues. Of course, Mac will be there by his side._

 _I hope this chapter doesn't sound too "adult." It's been a long time since I was six years old, so it's hard to write through the eyes of a child. Also, I don't know when Harm Sr. deployed for what proved to be his last tour, but in this world, he was present for little Harm's birthday in October._

 _Disclaimer: Don't own them. If so, Harm and Mac would have gotten together long before Fair Winds and Following Seas._

 **Missing**

 **La Jolla, California**  
 **December 26, 1969**

Six-year-old Harmon Rabb Jr. touched the wing of the model F-4 Phantom, carefully placing it back on the shelf. It was his prize possession, given to him by his father on his last birthday. "Someday you too will fly a fighter jet," the young lieutenant had said.

If there had been any doubt before, Harm knew from that moment he was destined to become a Naval aviator. The two of them had gone to Belmont Park. His father had carved their initials on one of the roller coaster cars.

It was a special day for both father and son. A week later, Lt. Rabb deployed for his second tour in Vietnam.

Harm left his room, then weaved his way through the crowd of people in the house. Friends, neighbors, and relatives were all here. Even Grandma Sarah had come from Pennsylvania.

Trish Rabb had been sad since two men in Navy uniforms showed up at their door late on Christmas Day. Harm only caught bits and pieces of the conversation, but it was enough to know the news wasn't good.

 _We regret to inform you…Lt. Harmon Rabb...shot down…Christmas Eve...missing._

Missing. That wasn't so bad. Harm's friend Tommy got lost one time, and the police looked until they found him. They brought him home safe and sound. Harm was confident someone was searching for his father and would bring him back too.

He glanced into the living room where his mother sat on the sofa with Grandma Sarah, dabbing her eyes. The Christmas tree stood by the window. Yesterday morning, decked in lights and tinsel, it looked almost magical. Presents from his grandparents, mother and father, and of course Santa were piled around its base.

No one had bothered to turn on the lights today. The tree looked sad. Empty. Lonely. An echo of the mood that hovered over the Rabb house.

Harm had always loved Christmas, and even though his father wasn't home this year, his mom went out of her way to make the day special. They attended a chapel service on Christmas Eve, then came home and put out milk and cookies for Santa. After opening the gifts, they ate dinner with another family who lived on base.

It was after they returned home that the two officers showed up on their doorstep. What had been a happy day turned into one of sadness.

Harm went into the kitchen. He took a cookie from a plate sitting on the table. Food was everywhere. Shortly after receiving the news, neighbors began bringing things over, but Harm had yet to see his mother eat anything. He hated seeing her so unhappy.

A couple of women, both whose husbands were in the Navy, stood near the back door, talking in low tones.

"I can't imagine what Trish is going through."

"Don't know what would be worse. Knowing your husband is dead or that he's missing and may never be found."

"I know. It's possible he was taken prisoner. Can you imagine going through life like that? I think it would be better to know he's dead rather than face the uncertainty."

 _No! They're wrong. My father isn't dead._

Harm took a step backward, bumping into the table. Surprised by the noise, the women looked in his direction and saw tears welling up in his eyes.

"I didn't know he was standing there," one of them said.

"Honey, we're sorry. Please don't—"

But Harm turned and fled the room. He ran right into the base chaplain who was walking down the hall.

The man bent down and put his hands upon Harm's shoulders to steady him. He had a kind face and gentle voice. "Hey there. Where are you going in such a hurry?"

Harm shook his head, unable to speak.

"Don't cry. Your mother needs you. You must be strong for her. You're the man of the house now."

Harm took a deep breath, nodded, then straightened his shoulders. Without saying a word, he went back into his bedroom and closed the door. He would not cry. Why was everyone giving up so quickly? Someone would find his father, and one day soon he would come walking through the front door.

He _couldn't_ be dead.


	2. Ghost Ship

_A/N: The next two chapters take place during the Season Three opener, Ghost Ship. I pretty much follow the episode, while exploring Harm's thoughts. There are a couple of different twists. I'll deviate more from what we saw on the screen in future chapters, so hang in there!_

 **Ghost Ship**

 **Alameda Naval Air Station  
September 23, 1997**

Lt. Cmdr. Harmon Rabb Jr. stepped out of the Navy issued sedan and onto the dock. He paused for a moment to look at the now retired USS Hornet. Funny how he once thought the ship was massive in size. It was small compared to the Nimitz class carriers he once served on, but in the eyes of a three-year-old, everything looked big.

He and his partner, Major Sarah "Mac" Mackenzie, were here to investigate the murder of an unidentified Naval Aviator. A salvage crew found skeletal remains in the void between the inner and outer hull. From all accounts, he had been sealed in the space since the Vietnam era.

Mac was Harm's third partner in two years. After he got over the initial shock of her uncanny resemblance to Diane, the two of them settled into a comfortable working relationship. Sure, he'd sandbagged her the first time they faced one another in court, and the feisty Marine was quick to make her displeasure known.

When the trial was over, she came to his apartment with a peace offering of food. They had sat on his bed to eat, as the loft was still in disarray. The fact she was comfortable being in his bedroom, after having known him such a short time, was a bit surprising to Harm. Not that he ever had trouble getting a woman into bed.

But he and Mac worked together, and he'd learned after his weekend fling with Kate Pike sleeping with your partner wasn't the wisest idea. Being together in the office was a little awkward after that. Although she'd never said it, Harm often wondered if it was the reason Kate requested a transfer from JAG headquarters.

He vowed never to make that mistake again. At any rate, when Meg Austin came on board, he thought of her like a younger sister. When she transferred out shortly after the investigation into Diane's death, Harm learned Admiral Chegwidden was partnering him with a Marine major. He soon discovered he'd met his match. Not only was Mac of equal rank, but she was also tough and strong-willed.

So what if she tended to lean toward the side of women officers? He learned that when they were sent to investigate a sexual harassment charge on board the Seahawk. Mac was quick to believe Lt. Isaacs over the CAG until she learned the facts. But she also knew women had to face a lot more obstacles to succeed in the military.

And if Harm would admit it, he tended to lean on the side of aviators, unless they were inferior pilots like Isaacs. He and Mac didn't always agree, but both had a high regard for the truth.

In the short time since they had become partners, they had already been through a lot together—their first case involving Mac's uncle at Red Rock Mesa, investigating the crash of an F-14, trips to Scotland and Columbia.

But it was when they took a day of leave to go flying, that their friendship began to deepen. Something happened between them out in those woods. It was the first time he'd told her about his father. Later, when they spent the night in a makeshift cave, Mac told him more things about her teenage years and her alcoholism.

If Mac hadn't already stabbed the crazed poacher who tried to assault her, he would have beaten the SOB within an inch of his life.

Mac walked over to join him, looking up at the ship. "Did you ever fly off her?"

Harm had to smile at Mac referring to the ship in the female gender, remembering her apparent disdain over him naming his Stearman after a woman. "She's too small to handle Tomcats, but I was on her once."

It was family day. His memories of that day were still fresh. He had followed his dad everywhere, tripping over knee knockers, marveling at the size of the planes on the flight deck. One of the highlights of his day was sitting in the seat of a fighter jet.

He still recalled his father's words, "Someday, Harm, a stick like that will take you to the moon."

Okay, he would never be an astronaut. He couldn't even fly at night anymore. But he had followed his father's footsteps and became a Naval Aviator. And though he wouldn't have chosen to give up flying, he was pretty sure Harm Sr. would approve of his second career in the Navy.

Mac and Harm made their way to the hanger deck and walked toward the area where the remains were found. Mac seemed a bit apprehensive—something out of character for her. Maybe it was Bud's comments about a ghost on another ship or rumors of the Hornet being haunted.

Harm scoffed at the idea. Why would anyone believe in something so ludicrous? He believed in absolutes, not in things unseen.

"What was that?" Mac gasped at the sound of a long, low moan.

"Metal contracting. The ship's cooling down."

But when they heard the sound of a hatch closing, followed by heavy footsteps, Harm pulled Mac to the side, telling her to dim her flashlight—something she didn't want to do. A few minutes later, they came face-to-face with a man who identified himself as Lt. Mark Falcon from Alameda homicide.

They exchanged pleasantries, then Falcon told them what he knew about the investigation, then invited them to dinner. He seemed pleasant enough—Mac certainly seemed to think so if the look on her face was any indication. She quickly explained to Mark about the Skoshi Tigers, something she wouldn't have known if not for Harm.

 _She's known Falcon all of ten minutes and seems enamored with him._

Harm wasn't sure how he felt about that. Shaking his head, he followed them to the flight deck. As he started to descend the stairs to the dock, a strange sensation enveloped him. He turned and looked toward the bridge. Someone was inside the ship. Someone was watching.

"Something wrong, Commander?" Falcon asked.

"No, nothing. Let's go eat."

* * *

Mac was waiting beside the car the following day when Harm stepped out of his quarters at the VOQ. "You have an overnight delivery from La Jolla," she said, handing him the package.

"I had my mom send me some tapes. Haven't listened to these in years." He got into the car, then put the first tape into a portable cassette player.

"And who would it be? Chris Cross, Billy Joel? Kenny Rogers?

"These are letter tapes from my dad. He sent them while he was on the Hornet. He came back from that tour."

"You still have hope that he's alive, don't you?"

Harm shook his head. "The odds are like one in ten million."

"Sooner or later someone wins the lottery."

"Probably not this time."

They listened in silence while Mac drove to the dock. Once there, she checked and found an email from Bud. They were almost sure of the identity of the murdered aviator.

Harm rattled off instructions for Mac to give to Bud.

"Where are you going?"

"To take a walk with my Dad."

"Harm," she said, placing her hand on his forearm.

"Yes?" He raised his eyebrows. Her action seemed like an intimate gesture. She must have realized what he was thinking and quickly pulled her hand away.

"Be careful."

"Mac, I've been navigating ships most of my adult life."

"I know, but… I don't want anything to happen to you."

"Worried about ghosts?" he teased. "I'll be fine. See you in a little while.

Harm walked along the hanger and flight deck while playing one of the tapes. Walking the same steps and listening to his father's voice made him feel a little closer to the man he adored. "Hammer" was only thirty when he was shot down—younger than Harm was now. If he had lived, he would be in his late fifties now.

If he had lived. What if Mac was right. What if he was still alive?

Harm shook his head. It was one thing for a sixteen-year-old to believe it, quite another for a grown man.

He was surprised to meet someone coming out of one of the ship's doors. The man introduced himself as Sibby Lonegro. He claimed to have once served on the Hornet and was now hoping to obtain salvage rights for her. "I was the one who found the body. Want me to take you to the place?"

"No, thanks. I'll find it myself."

"Just don't cross any chains."

Harm left Lonegro standing on the deck and went inside. He usually wasn't one to judge quickly, but there was something sleazy about the guy. Maybe it was because he wanted to turn the ship into razor blades, but Harm's instincts told him it was something else.

 _Shaking aside his thoughts, he continued to listen to the tape._

 _"Gotta turn this off now, Trish…"_

Harm came to the O2 level, then rounded a corner.

And fell to the floor below.


	3. Found - And Lost

_A/N: This is the continuation of Harm and Mac's investigation on the USS Hornet. I can't remember when (or if) there was a scene where Harm told Mac about his trip to Laos as a teenager. For the purpose of this story, it happened in Alameda. A big thanks to everyone who has taken time to read._

 **Found - And Lost**

 **USS** ** _Hornet_**  
 **Alameda Naval Air Station**  
 **September 24, 1997**

It took a few minutes for Harm to get his bearings, but he looked up to the level above. Someone was watching him. Who was up there? Lonegro?

He tried to focus but felt a little woozy. Not surprising. He must have fallen a good fifteen feet or more.

"Harm are you okay?" Mac rushed to his side, then helped him sit up, shining the flashlight in his eyes.

"I'm fine. At least I was before you shone that light in my face."

"We need to get you to a hospital. Your pupils are contracting, but slowly."

"I don't need a hospital. I just need to get on deck."

Once outside, Mac turned to Harm. "I should take you back to quarters."

"Mac, I'm fine. Besides, the two of you have a dinner date."

"I'm not leaving you."

"Yes, you are. As lead investigator on this case, consider it an order."

Reluctantly, Mac turned and left the ship with Falcon. Harm watched them go before dialing Bud's number. After finishing the call, he started to walk away when the strange sensation of being watched came over him. It was much stronger than yesterday.

Someone was inside the ship. Mac and Falcon were gone as well as Lonegro. Who was it?

Inexplicably drawn to the presence, Harm went back inside, still holding the cassette player. When he reached the hanger deck, he saw a young man wearing the uniform of a Navy lieutenant walking toward officer's quarters.

"Dad?"

The man didn't answer.

Harm followed him to one of the cabins. Was this his father's quarters? He stepped inside. It was the last thing he remembered until he heard Mac's voice and felt her gentle caress on his face.

 **Alameda California  
September 26, 1997**

Harm was restless. After being confined to a hospital bed for two days, he was more than ready to get back to Washington.

Chalk up another Rabb-Mackenzie case for the books. They never seemed to do anything easy. It started as a routine investigation into the decades-old murder of a Naval aviator. It ended with Harm finding a book with the names of Vietnam POWs who were taken to Russia. Among the names listed was Lt. Harmon Rabb.

Finding the name stirred a glimmer of hope within Harm. At least he knew his father survived being shot down. It was possible when sixteen-year-old Harm sneaked into Laos, that Harm Sr. could have still been alive in Russia. Could he still be alive today?

Harm phoned Bud to say he was being discharged and that he and Mac would pick up the book from the police station before boarding a flight back to DC.

"We should land there around 1900."

One of the first people he intended to question was Webb. Clay's warning that the KGB might be involved was confirmation enough the list had merit. American POWs had been sent to Russia.

Harm looked up as Mac entered the room.

Mac smiled. "Hey there, flyboy. We have one hour and forty-seven minutes before our flight leaves. Ready to get out of this place?"

"I was ready two days ago."

"You may have wanted out, but you were by no means ready. Next time you have a concussion and say you're doing fine, I'm not listening."

"Good thing you listened this time. Otherwise, we wouldn't have found the book."

"Probably not." Mac hesitated for a few minutes. "How are you handling it?"

"I'm managing. I have to."

"Did you tell your Mom?"

He shook his head. "No. Not until I know more. It would only upset her, and she's moved on with her life."

"You mean with Frank?"

"Yeah."

"How do you feel about him?"

"Frank's a good man. I resented him at first. For a while, I was even bitter toward my mom. I thought she gave up on finding my father too easily."

"How old were you when she and Frank married?"

"Thirteen. The first few years, I made their life hell. Kept insisting that Dad might still be alive. When I was sixteen, I ran away from home."

"You? The All-American kid? Future Naval Academy graduate? I find it hard to believe."

"It's true."

"What, you were gone a few hours? Maybe a day at the most."

"I was gone a month. I went to Laos."

Mac's eyes widened in surprise. "Laos? To look for your father?"

"I learned of a Col. Francis Stryker who was looking for American POWs. I hooked up with him and his team. Learned a lot about jungle warfare from him."

"You mean—?"

"Yeah. I carried an M-16. Had to use it on a couple of occasions."

"Wow. No wonder you make a good undercover Recon Marine."

"I don't know about that. I managed to get someone killed in Laos." Harm told Mac what happened to Gym and her mother.

"Gym chose to turn back. What happened to her wasn't your fault."

"Come on, Mac. I was sixteen. She was sixteen. We became close. We, uh…"

"Your first time?"

"Yeah. And the next day she was killed. If I hadn't been there, she would have never gone into the jungle."

"You don't know that."

Harm didn't respond.

"Tell me this. What if the situation were reversed. If you had been the one to die, do you think Gym would have felt responsible?"

"I guess so."

"And would it have been her fault?"

"No."

"You were there in hopes of finding your father. The way I see it, Gym wouldn't have gone along if not for her mother. She would have died anyway. Your being there had nothing to do with her death."

"I don't know, Mac. Maybe you're right."

"Harm, we all have choices in life. We can allow others to influence us, but ultimately the decisions we make are our own."

"Guess you're right."

"I know I am. Now, let's get out of here. We now have one hour and eighteen minutes to catch our flight."

"How do you do that?"

"Oh, I have lots of talents you don't know about."

 **In the Skies Near Washington, DC  
1830 Local Time**

Mac looked at Harm. He had been quiet the entire flight, staring out the window. She couldn't imagine how he was feeling. To have evidence of what happened to his father so close, only to be snatched away, had to be disheartening.

It came as a surprise to both of them the man calling himself Falcon was an imposter. Most likely former KGB, if Webb was right. He was probably on a plane back to Russia with the book in his hand.

Mac supposed they should be grateful neither of them had been killed. According to Webb, the KGB would stop at nothing to keep people from learning what they had done.

Harm turned to look at her. He smiled, but there was a hint of sadness to it. Not his usual flyboy grin.

"You okay?"

"Got to be. Mac, I can't believe I let that guy fool me. It's my fault we don't have the book."

"He tricked both of us. We had no way of knowing. What are you going to do now?" Mac took his hand in hers.

"I'll find him, Mac. I'll find him and that list if it takes the rest of my life."

She did not doubt his determination. The trouble was, she wasn't sure if he meant he would find Falcon or his father.


	4. Closer Than You Think

_A/N: Finally an original, albeit short, chapter set shortly after Harm and Mac returned from the Hornet investigation. They have been assigned as defense counsel for an officer charged with fraternization. I don't go into a lot of details on the case because I'm not versed in the UCMJ. Any mistakes are my own._

 **Closer Than You Think  
**

 **JAG Headquarters  
1655 Local Time**

Harm looked across the table at the highly decorated and respected Marine officer. "If found guilty, you could face a maximum sentence of dismissal, forfeiture of all pay and allowances, and up to two years confinement. The prosecution has a strong case."

"I'm aware of that." The Marine was a man of few words.

"As your attorneys, Major Mackenzie and I recommend you plead guilty. You will likely face separation but could be allowed to keep your pay and benefits and not serve any prison time."

"Not good enough, Commander. I'll take my chances in court." Col. Sutter stood, then left the room.

Harm waited until the door closed before speaking. "We've got our work cut out for us on this one, Mac."

"Yeah. I don't know how we can get him off."

"Hard to understand why a highly decorated officer would throw away a thirty-year career. He knows the military frowns on fraternization."

"Claims he's in love with her. Said she filled a void left when his wife died. Love sometimes does strange things to people."

"I guess so. Hell, Mac, the petty officer is almost young enough to be his daughter. She's young. Attractive."

"And your point?"

"Couldn't she find someone closer to her own age?"

"Harm, some women find older men attractive."

"Would you be speaking with the voice of experience?" Harm's tone was teasing, but he couldn't help but wonder if Mac would go for someone older.

"No comment. And unless you want to stay here all weekend, we should begin discussing our defense strategy. The article 32 hearing begins Monday morning."

"It's already after 1700."

"1713."

Harm looked at his watch. As expected Mac was correct.

"Aren't you going to ask me how I do that?"

"So far you've given me a different answer each time. It's a 'Marine' thing, your mother is Swiss, you have great timing, and you have hidden talents. Would you tell me the truth if I asked again?

Mac smiled. "And give away all my secrets? I don't think so."

Harm grinned. "Tell you what. Come to my place. We can order pizza and work on the case there."

"Works for me. I need to clear a few things off my desk first. What time?"

"Come around 1930. Instead of ordering pizza, I'll cook."

"As long as it's not Harm's meatless meatloaf, you've got a deal."

"What's wrong with my meatloaf?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?"

"Probably not. But don't count on something like Beltway burgers."

"That would be too much to hope for," she teased. "See you then, Flyboy."

 **Harm's Apartment  
North of Union Station**

 **1927 Local**

Mac stood in the hallway, waiting for Harm to open the door. Unlike him, she liked to arrive on time or early. He had this uncanny knack for always being late.

"Mac. You're early," he said as the door swung open.

"Harm, two-minutes and fifty-two seconds could hardly be considered early." She entered the apartment. "Something smells good."

"Vegetarian lasagna."

Mac frowned.

"Don't worry. No tofu." Ever the gentleman, he took her coat and hung it near the door.

"Can I help with anything?"

"No, I'm good. Just need to put the garlic bread in the oven and toss the salad. Want something to drink?"

"I'm fine for now." Mac looked around the room. Soft music was playing over the stereo, and Harm had placed candles on the glass top table. A big difference from the first time she'd eaten here. And she had to admit, a home cooked meal sounded much better than a Beltway burger, even if it was without meat.

She loved everything about the loft. From the potted herbs on the windowsill to the butcher block countertops to the louvered glass that partitioned the bedroom, it was uniquely Harm. Even the glass brick shower. The entire place had a feeling of openness.

Unlike the apartment, Harm often kept himself closed off. She'd noticed it especially since they had returned from the investigation on the Hornet. Sometimes when they were working on a case, she would catch him staring off into space—a look of longing in his eyes.

But each time she asked him what was wrong, he shrugged it off. She wanted so badly for him to let her in.

Mac walked over to the bookshelves to study the photographs sitting there. The first one was Harm and a couple whom she guessed were his mother and stepfather. It was probably taken on the occasion of his graduation from the Naval Academy.

Even then, he had his patented flyboy grin. At twenty-two, he looked so young, but also seemed as if he bore the weight of the world on his shoulders. How long had he carried that burden? Since his father was shot down?

She recalled one of the early cases where they had opposed one another in court. She had not wanted to defend her client, but Admiral Chegwidden refused to remove her from the case. It had brought back too many memories of her abusive father.

Harm had helped her see the light. After the trial was over, she confessed she'd carried her father around since the age of sixteen.

"That's okay, as long as he doesn't weigh too much," he had said.

"He doesn't. Not anymore."

Would Harm carry his father forever?

She looked at another photo of a young Harm and his father taken beside a fighter jet. Harmon Rabb Sr. was every bit as handsome as his son. Mac guessed the photo was taken shortly before his last deployment.

Both father and son were smiling. Happy. So naive of what was to come.

Mac was so engrossed in studying the photo, she didn't realize Harm was standing behind her. "It was taken a few days before he shipped out that last time."

"Must have been a special day." She turned and looked into his gray-blue eyes. The hint of sadness was present, much like it had been for the past few weeks.

"Yeah, it was." He blinked his eyes, then lowered his head.

Was he trying to keep her from seeing him cry? He'd shed a few tears on the Hornet when he found the book. Lots of people didn't think men should cry, but in Mac's opinion, it took more of a man to cry than not.

She reached for his hand. "Harm—"

"I'm okay, Mac."

She smiled, then picked up the photo taken at his graduation. "I gather this is your mom and Frank?"

Harm nodded. "Frank's a good man. I don't think he could have been any prouder of me that day if I had been his flesh and blood."

"Does he have other children?"

"No. His marriage to Mom was his first. They never had children together. Don't know why. Probably because I was such an ass, they didn't want to risk going through something like that with another child."

"Harm, you're too hard on yourself. Lots of teenagers rebel."

"Hell, I wouldn't want a kid that acted like me. I did my damnedest to break up their marriage. But in spite of everything I did Frank was more supportive than Mom when I got back from Laos. She thought the best punishment was to keep me out of the Naval Academy. Frank convinced her that was the worst thing she could do. It took a couple of weeks, but she finally saw things his way."

"I'm glad he persevered. Otherwise, we probably wouldn't have met, and that would have been a shame." Mac felt her face grow warm with her admission.

Harm grinned. His flyboy demeanor was back in place. "I'm glad we met too, Ninja Girl. Now, let's eat dinner before it gets cold."

 **Harm's Apartment**

 **North of Union Station  
2100 Local**

"I'm impressed, Flyboy. That was a delicious meal."

He grinned. "I may get you to eat healthy yet."

They had finished dinner and Mac helped him clean up the kitchen.

"Thanks for helping, Mac. Ready to get started on the case?"

"Sure. Mind if I use the head first?"

"Go ahead."

Harm placed the leftovers in the refrigerator when someone knocked on his door.

"Wonder who that could be?" He walked to the door, then looked through the peephole. Standing on the other side was his downstairs neighbor, Camilla Stanley. He opened the door.

"Hope I'm not interrupting anything," she said, looking around the room. "This envelope was left in my mailbox by mistake. Thought it might be important, so I took a chance on you being home."

Camilla hesitated a moment as if waiting for Harm to invite her in. About that time, Mac stepped down from the bedroom.

"Guess I am interrupting. I'll run along." Camilla turned and walked away.

"Thanks for dropping this off," Harm called after her.

"Who was that?" Mac asked.

"New neighbor from downstairs. Moved in a couple of weeks ago. Said this envelope was left at her apartment by mistake. No return address." He shrugged and laid it on the counter.

"Aren't you going to see what it is?"

"Guess I could." He tore open the envelope to find a crudely printed note.

 _Keep searching, Commander Rabb. The answer is closer than you think._


	5. Old and New Nemeses

_A/N: I feel like the next couple of chapters are more like "housekeeping" sections as I am setting up for Harm and Mac's trip to Russia. I reference several scenes from a few of the season three episodes. Some of the dates will vary from when they were originally broadcast._

 _When I began writing this story, I wasn't sure if I would include Dalton and "Neurotic Annie." After much deliberation, I decided to do so, with a few differences. After all, things can't always be easy for our "dynamic duo." (Thanks to minimindbender for that description!)_

 _So please bear with me—I promise the story will soon turn more original._

 _Anyhow_ _…_ _Hope you enjoy this chapter!_

 **USS Wake Island  
October 9, 1997  
2100 Local**

Harm lay in his bunk, trying to relax after a long day of questioning witnesses about a recent incident in Haiti. Rebel forces had captured several Marines and were subsequently killing them one by one. When a rescue team went in, it turned out their CO likely disobeyed a direct order by sending them.

The killing of civilians was big news—one the Sec Nav didn't want to turn into another My Lai, so Admiral Chegwidden sent his top two attorneys to investigate. When Harm learned Mac knew the CO and once served under him in Okinawa, he wasn't sure she could be objective. Her actions today seemed to prove him right.

A heavy knock came to the door of his cabin, and before he had time to react, Mac stormed in. He'd seen her anger before, like the time he sandbagged her in court. Today he saw her fury.

"You've pulled some sneaky, deceitful moves on me, but this is too slimy even for you."

"Hey, you want to power down and tell me what this is about?"

"Reporting to Chegwidden behind my back recommending an admiral's mast Article 90 ring a bell?"

"I sent in a report, yeah."

"Behind my back!"

"As primary investigator, that's my prerogative. But I didn't make a recommendation."

"Why didn't you discuss it with me first?"

"Because frankly, I don't believe you're objective."

"Maybe I'm not, but you could've given the benefit of the doubt." Mac left the room, slamming the door behind her.

So much for the two of us becoming closer.

Harm turned his attention back to his book but found it difficult to concentrate. What exactly was Mac's relationship with Farrow? He recalled the recent fraternization case they'd worked and her comment about some women being attracted to older men.

There wasn't a huge age difference between her and Farrow. Harm still couldn't picture the two of them together. But Farrow's reaction when he first saw Mac said otherwise. Sarah Mackenzie had secrets.

Harm shook his head. Mac's personal life wasn't any of his business. It made no difference to him who she might have been involved with in the past or for that matter, the present.

Why then did the thought of her being with another man bother him so much?

 **Various Locations  
** **October, 1997**

Lt. Cmdr. Harmon Rabb left the courtroom and walked back to his office. He couldn't say he was sorry over Farrow not receiving any punishment for his disobeying orders. The man's career was basically over anyway, but at least he wouldn't face prison time or loss of pay and benefits.

Harm didn't regret putting the mother of the deceased child on the stand. She spoke the truth, and as he once told Bud, "The truth is everything."

Anyway, who's to say he wouldn't have done the same thing in Farrow's position. The man did what he had to do to rescue his men. Damn the politicians and diplomats who thought they knew best. If not for Farrow, it's likely every one of those Marines would have died.

He had to hand it to Mac. She stepped up to the plate as the assistant prosecutor and did not allow her personal feelings to interfere with the case.

Over the next few weeks, they seemed to have gotten back their rapport. Mac didn't mention Farrow, which was more than okay with Harm.

When an F-14 crashed in California, killing a mother and her small child, the admiral sent Harm and Bud to Miramar to investigate. Mac showed up a few days later as defense counsel for the pilot.

One evening Harm went to a local bar to take his mind off the investigation where he ran into Lt. Tina Schiparelli. After beating a couple of Marines at a game of pool, the two of them sat in her convertible. Harm relaxed, trying to enjoy his cigar.

Of course, the loquacious lieutenant couldn't remain silent. She began to compare him to some actor—one that she idolized—when she suddenly moved toward him and began to kiss him.

It was about that time Mac showed up, obviously not happy over what she witnessed. Harm, who had been entirely innocent in the matter, tried to smooth things over. But Schiparelli's comment about Marines not being a challenge was enough to start a war between a certain Marine major and Navy Lieutenant.

Before things got out of hand, Harm jumped out of the convertible, then climbed into the car with Mac.

Needless to say, the drive back to the base was a little awkward.

"Mind telling me what that was all about?" Mac asked.

"I went out for a beer, decided to shoot some pool, and the lieutenant was there. We decided to play partners against two Marines. Took me by surprise when she kissed me."

"And you weren't enjoying it?"

"Maaac," he said, drawing out her name. "Schiparelli came on to me, not the other way around."

"Yeah, I'm sure you turned on the charm and flashed her that flyboy grin. Many women can't resist when you do that."

Why was Mac suddenly acting like the jealous girlfriend? Harm remembered Bobbie Latham's comment about Mac liking him. Maybe it was time to test the waters.

"Including you?"

"Forget it, Harm. This isn't about me. Next time use discretion. After all, she is a junior officer."

Something about her words rubbed him the wrong way.

"And what about when you were the junior officer?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I think you know."

"No, I don't, Harm. Care to spell it out?"

"Farrow. The two of you seemed to be a little too cozy to have just had a platonic relationship. Plan on seeing him again anytime soon? You're not in his command anymore, so it's not against regs." Harm regretted the words as soon as he said them. Would he ever learn to stop putting his foot in his mouth around Mac?

Something flashed in her eyes. Hurt? Pain? Regret?

"Mac, I'm sorry. I—"

She spoke softly. "I think it's best we put an end to this discussion."

 **JAG Headquarters  
** **October 28, 1997  
** **0900 Local**

Once again, Mac put aside her personal feelings and acted like the utmost professional. Neither of them mentioned the previous night's discussion.

When Harm was forced to expose his former trainer's eyesight problem, permanently grounding him, Mac seemed to empathize. It hadn't been an easy thing to do, but it was the right thing.

But once they returned to JAG, the camaraderie they once shared was strained. One morning, when Harm walked through the bullpen with Bud, he noticed a well-dressed man in Mac's office. Her door was closed, so he couldn't hear what they were saying, but Mac was laughing.

"Bud, who is that in Mac's office?"

"That's Dalton Lowne of Lowell, Hanson, and Lowne. One of the biggest law firms in Virginia."

"Oh yeah? Who's he representing?"

"I don't think he's representing anyone, Sir. I think he's recruiting."

Harm stared at Mac's office, a million thoughts running through his head.

Mac? Leave JAG? No way. She can't leave. What will I do without her? She's my partner, my best friend, my…

Just what was Mac to him? Partners and friends, yes. But Harm had to admit Mac meant so much more to him.

Harm realized Bud was watching, so he made a lame excuse and ducked into his own office. It wasn't long before the admiral called him and Mac into his office. He was sending them to investigate the disappearance of an F-14 over the Bermuda Triangle.

As they left the admiral's office, Harm asked, "So, what's up with Dalton Lowne?"

"Why do you ask about Dalton?"

Harm shrugged. "Just curious."

"We went out a few times. Had dinner. He's a nice guy."

"Oh yeah?"

"We're just friends. Are you jealous?"

"Please."

"He drives a Porsche."

"I fly Tomcats."

"You are jealous."

Was he? No way! Well, maybe a little. But admitting it was the last thing he would do.

 **JAG Headquarters  
** **November 18, 1997  
** **0930 Local**

Mac was leaving. She hadn't said for sure, but Harm felt it in every fiber of his being. He'd known it since their conversation on the USS Coral Sea.

You think I'm obsessing about my dad since I found that list, don't you?

No, you were obsessing before you found the list and you have every right, Harm. I just hope you realize finding Cmdr. Douglas isn't going to give you closure with your father.

Only finding my Dad will do that.

Somehow, the conversation shifted to what she was searching for, among them a good man. Harm, unable to stop himself, brought Dalton's name into the discussion. Mac tried to be evasive in her reply, but she wasn't fooling him.

I just hope you're not going to do something stupid, Mac.

Why Harm. Are you afraid you're going to lose me?

Yes, he was afraid of losing her, but he wasn't going to admit it, so he made some inane comment about hating to break in new partners. Why couldn't he voice his feelings around her?

Apparently, Admiral Chegwidden thought Mac was planning to leave JAG. Maybe that was the reason he had her remain at headquarters doing mindless paperwork while Harm and Bud went to investigate the crash of a Marne helicopter over the Mojave Desert.

Mac wasn't happy about being asked to go. She was convinced the admiral was mad at her but couldn't figure out why.

"Same reason we all are, Mac." Harm walked into his office and closed the door.

 **JAG Headquarters  
** **November 21, 1997  
** **1600 Local**

Harm and Bud were able to wrap up the investigation in a short amount of time, despite the case having been "taken away" from them. Through Harm's relentless search for the truth, he exposed a cover-up by rogue corporation and a deranged former DSD agent.

Returning to JAG was bittersweet. On their first day back, Mac tendered her resignation effective immediately.

Harm was outside in the courtyard, smoking a cigar when she left the building the last time as a Marine.

"Trying to sneak away without saying goodbye, Major?"

She walked over to join him. "I'd prefer good luck."

"Good luck. It's been a pleasure serving with you."

"I feel there are so many things I need to say to explain myself."

"No, you don't. I may not like it, but I understand."

Tears formed in Mac's eyes.

"If people see Marines cry it'll give the core a bad name." Harm reached to wipe her tears.

"Permission to hug the commander."

Harm looked around. "Sure. Permission granted."

They hugged one another, then Mac said, "I'm going to miss you, Harm."

"I'm going to miss you too, Sarah." Harm looked up to see a silver Porsche pull up to the security gate. "Your ride's here. Nice car."

"Yeah, but it's no Tomcat."

Harm watched as Mac got into the car, then Dalton drove away. He wanted to be happy for her. Told her he was. But inside, he felt like a part of him was dying.


	6. Substitutions

_A/N: The People vs. Rabb was another favorite episode of mine. Face it, Harm looked pretty good as a Marine, and the evening he spent with Mac… Let's just say the writers missed an opportunity. (I won't!)_

 _Annie makes her first appearance in this chapter, a little sooner than she did on the show. Harm's confession to Bobbie Latham during "The Court Martial of Sandra Gilbert" that he was in love with his best friend's wife didn't sit well with me. IMO, his actions during their brief relationship didn't show it. Neither will I._

 **Substitutions**

 **Willard Hotel  
Washington, DC  
December 31,1997**

JAG wasn't the same without Mac. She had been gone a month, and while Harm did his best to act as if nothing was different, it wasn't easy. He missed her, more than he cared to admit. Perhaps that's why he readily agreed to spending New Year's Eve with Annie Pendry.

Her phone call a few days earlier came as a surprise. He'd last seen her almost a year earlier in California. At the time, Harm thought something might develop between the two of them. But the old saying about absence making the heart grow fonder didn't ring true in this case. He felt as if he were talking to a stranger.

New Year's Eve at the Willard was a grand affair, attended by some of the DC area's more elite residents.

"How did you manage to get tickets to this event?" he asked.

"My boss and his wife planned to attend, but they had an out of town family emergency. He asked if I'd like the tickets. That's when I decided to call you."

"Then I gather you're not seeing anyone."

Annie shook her head. "I've been out with a couple of guys. Nothing serious. And you?"

"No one."

"Hmmh. I figured you and Mac would be together by now."

"Mac has a boyfriend."

"Oh, so you're secretly in love with her?"

Harm didn't want to talk about his relationship with Mac to anyone. Especially Annie. It was time to change the subject. "How's Josh?"

"Fine. Adjusting to life in Baltimore. He like the Orioles, so that helps."

"Is he still determined to become an aviator like his dad?"

"I'm trying to convince him otherwise. I want him to be a lawyer or doctor. Something safe."

"Annie, Josh idolized his father. It's only natural he would want to follow in his footsteps."

"Spoken from someone who knows. Tell me, Harm. Would you have become a pilot if your dad hadn't been shot down?"

"Yes. My dad going MIA had nothing to do with it."

"But you did idolize him. Harm, you need to let him go. The chances of him being alive are slim."

"How did this discussion turn into one about me and my father? We're talking about Josh, and I think it should be his decision about becoming a pilot."

"Harm, this isn't a subject up for debate. Josh is _my_ son, and I'll raise him the way _I_ want. And that doesn't include a career in the Navy."

"All right. I won't bring it up anymore." Clearly Annie had a lot of unresolved fears. Josh needed a father figure who would bring balance into his life. Harm could understand it hadn't been easy for Annie to lose her husband in a plane crash. But she'd known of Luke's love of flying before they married. Josh shared that desire. Why did she want to deny her son that?

When she excused herself to go to the ladies' room, Harm decided to step out to the terrace for a cigar. His thoughts drifted to the time he and Mac had danced together at the NATO Ball.

 _Harm I know this is like dancing with your sister, but you could at least pretend to have fun._

 _Mac, I don't think of you as a sister._

 _You don't?_

 _No, I don't._

Harm had never thought of Mac in that way. He just wished he'd told her his true feelings.

He finished his cigar, then returned to the ballroom. Annie was back. He had to admit she looked attractive in a navy-blue gown.

That's when he felt a familiar tingling. Mac was nearby. He knew it. Harm looked around the room and saw her on the dance floor. She wore a floor-length sequined red gown with a low neckline. The slit skirt allowed him a view of one long, shapely leg.

She was the most beautiful woman in the room. It was all Harm could do to not rush to her side. But she was dancing with Dalton Lowne. She was smiling and looked happy. Clearly, she had moved on from JAG.

He walked to the table where Annie sat. "Care to dance?"

She smiled at him. "I'd love to."

He took her by the hand and lead her to the dance floor. Annie wasn't a bad person. Maybe they could have a future together.

There was only one problem. She wasn't Mac.

 **January 13, 1998  
Navy Brig**

Locked up. Accused of murdering a member of the Russian Mafia. The FBI agents refused to believe his story that another man was present in the warehouse. When Clayton Webb came to rescue him, they vowed they would meet again.

And they did. He came home the next morning to find his apartment overflowing with DC Police and the FBI. Convenient they would find ammo in his toilet. Someone had set him up.

The Marine guard was a cheerful person. Harm had once got the staff sergeant acquitted of a DOD charge.

"I'll pass the word to the other guards you're okay. If you need anything, just let me know."

"What I need is to get out of here."

The Marine unlocked the door to Harm's cell.

"What are you doing?"

"It's not what you think. You have visitors."

Staff Sgt. Ramirez escorted Harm to a room where Bud sat with Carolyn Imes. The admiral recalled her from an overseas assignment to handle his defense.

"Carolyn, I need to get out of here."

"I can probably get you involuntary manslaughter."

"No. No plea bargaining.

"I didn't think so. Then we'll go with self-defense. Justifiable homicide."

"You're basing your strategy on the theory I killed him."

"I'm basing my strategy on what will keep you out of Leavenworth."

"You think I killed him?"

"What I think is irrelevant."

"It does to me."

 _Where was Mac when he needed her?_

Two nights later, Clayton Webb showed up at the brig with the dossier and some photos of a man Harm identified as Col Mikhael Parlovsky. With Webb, there was always a quid pro quo.

Webb wanted Parlovsky. Harm wanted the information about his father. By mutual agreement, Clay helped him break out of the brig.

There was only one place for him to go. Mac's apartment.

She answered the door. "You never call. You never write."

"If you let me in, you'll be harboring a fugitive."

"Did you do it?"

"No."

Mac opened the door wider and motioned him inside.


	7. People Vs Rabb

_A/N: The first part of this chapter is in Mac's point of view and is taken primarily from People vs. Rabb. Things are a little different than what we saw on the screen._

 **People vs. Rabb**

 **January 15, 1998  
Sarah Mackenzie's Apartment, Georgetown**

There were a million questions Mac wanted to ask Harm.

 _How are things at JAG?_

 _Do you have a new partner?_

 _What else has been going on in your life?_

But now wasn't the time. She was half-way teasing about him not calling or writing, but the truth was she'd missed him. It hurt that he hadn't tried to contact her. Yes, she was the one who chose to leave JAG, but he had indicated they would probably see one another. Had said he would miss her. And for the first time, he'd called her Sarah.

Other men called her by that name, but she felt something special when Harm said it. The way his lowered his voice to an almost whisper as if there was an implied intimacy.

However, it was clear Harm had moved on with his life. Mac saw him with Annie Pendry on New Year's Eve. She was the last person Mac would have pictured Harm becoming involved with. Mac had met her only a couple of times, but it was obvious the woman had some serious issues. But if they were involved, why hadn't he gone to her?

Harm walked to Mac's sofa, then sat down.

"Do you want some tea? Anything?"

"No, thanks. Mac, how's your Russian?"

So that was the reason he'd come to her and not Annie. She spoke the language. Mac supposed she should be upset, but right now her feelings didn't matter. In spite of everything that had happened over the past few months, Harm was still her best friend.

She knew how much finding his news of his father meant to him. Annie wasn't with him on the Hornet. Didn't witness his pain when he learned his father had been sent to Russia. Didn't see the glimmer of hope in his eyes that Harm Sr. might still be alive.

Annie probably wouldn't care. The fact that Harmon Rabb, Sr. was shot down over Vietnam would only serve as another reason for her to discourage her son away from a career in the Navy.

The fact that Harm devoted most of his life in becoming a Naval Aviator like his father and grandfather, only to have that career cut short by night blindness, didn't matter to her. She would probably see Harm's search as a useless endeavor and not support him in his efforts. That had to be at least part of the reason Harm didn't turn to her tonight.

Mac, on the other hand, knew how much finding his father meant to him. And she would do anything to help him in that search. Not to mention getting him cleared of a murder charge. She grabbed her Russian dictionary from a bookshelf and began reviewing the dossier.

The pale light of dawn was breaking when Mac blinked her eyes. She was still on the sofa, with her head lying against someone's shoulder.

Harm. The last thing Mac recalled was closing her Russian dictionary sometime around 0300. She told Harm everything the dossier had to say about his father's time in the Soviet Union beginning with the time he arrived in Moscow in the spring of 1970 until the time the trail went cold ten years later. She hated seeing the disappointment in his eyes.

He had moved to sit beside her and began to work the stiffness from her neck and shoulders.

Yawning, she had said. "Ahh, don't stop anytime soon. You have magic hands." She had often wondered what their touch would feel like.

They must have fallen asleep. Being careful not to awaken him, she sat up, then watched as he slept, taking note of his dark eyelashes. Harm looked relaxed in sleep, much different from the man who showed up at her door night before.

The ringing of the phone startled him awake. "Mac," he said, looking at the clock. "I've got to get out of here."

She allowed the answering machine to pick up. _Hi. Leave a message, and I'll get back to you as soon as possible._

A gruff voice came over the speaker. _This is Admiral Chegwidden. If you're there, pick up. Pick up, Major, that's an order!_

Mac didn't answer. When the line clicked dead, she pressed the button to delete the message.

"Disobeying a direct order?"

Mac shrugged. "I'm not in the corps anymore, remember.

Harm stood up.

"Where are you going?"

"To find Parlovsky."

"I thought you said he'd only confess if you turn those papers over to him."

"I'm not looking for a confession. I need him to find my father."

"Harm, I wouldn't be so quick to trust this man."

"I don't trust him. But he's my only hope. There's an old ferry in Baltimore Harbor that is no longer in use. I'll stay there. If Clay is right, Parlovsky will be looking for me." He walked to the door, and Mac followed him.

"Harm, if anything happened to you, I don't think I would… Just be careful, okay?" Tears formed in her eyes.

"I will, Ninja Girl. Don't worry." Harm brushed her tears with the pads of his thumbs.

"Easy for you to say."

Mac wasn't sure which one of them initiated the kiss. She swayed toward him, he lowered his head toward her, and their lips met.

The kiss was warm and tender. It was more than a quick peck on the lips between friends, but not the kiss of lovers. Still, it left her tingling from her head to her toes. And just as suddenly as it began it was over, and Harm was out the door.

 **Office of Lowell, Hanson, and Lowne  
0930 Local**

Mac hated being late. She prided herself with always being early or on time. It wasn't to be this morning. After Harm left, she grabbed a quick shower, then changed into proper business attire, complete with the pearls Dalton had given her. They were nice, but they weren't her. She still felt funny not wearing the uniform that had been such a big part of her life the past few years.

Her mind was still reeling from the kiss she and Harm shared when she ran into Dalton in the hallway.

"Sarah, is something wrong?"

"No, I'm fine."

"I called you last night, didn't you get my message?"

"Sorry, but I had a migraine."

"You should have told me. I could have come over and taken care of you." Dalton followed her to her office.

 _And interrupted my time with Harm? I don't think so._ Something about Dalton's words irked her, but she pasted a smile on her face. "That's sweet."

"Hurry. We're waiting for you in the conference room."

"We?"

"You know. The product liability suit."

"Oh, okay. I'll be right there." She opened the door to find a strange man sitting in her office. It was none other than Col. Mikhail Parlovsky. He had tracked Harm to her apartment but lost contact with him when he left this morning.

Parlovsky would not confirm nor deny being the murderer, but he wanted to Harm to contact him.

Dalton appeared at her door. He looked surprised to see the stranger but said, "Sarah, we're still waiting."

After giving the Russian permission to contact her that after, Mac went to her desk to pull the file for her meeting. "What case was that?" she asked Dalton. Clearly, he mind wasn't on her job.

 **Chesapeake Bay  
1630 Local**

The trail was lost. Again. It was the second time Harm had been betrayed by a Russian agent. He came so close to learning the truth about his father, but the answers were still far away.

He should have known Clayton Webb would pull something. After narrowly escaping the spook's attempt at capturing Parlovsky in Alexandria, Harm took him back to the abandoned ferry where he'd been staying.

Watching the dossier go up in flames felt like a part of him was dying.

"These documents are fake."

"Are you telling me the truth?"

Parlovsky tossed Harm a handgun, then left the boat. Of course, he planned to flee the country without admitting he was the person who killed Canoplanic. There was nothing more Harm could do except go back to JAG and throw himself on the mercy of the court.

 **Two Weeks Later  
JAG Headquarters  
Falls Church, Virginia  
1400 Local**

"I find there is insufficient evidence for a court-martial." The judge banged his gavel. It was over. Harm was a free man.

Mac had come through for him, finding evidence and defending him in a way Carolyn Imes would have never considered. And though Harm was still a little angry with Clay, he was grateful for the spook's testimony.

Now Harm found himself standing with Mac in the courtyard. "I guess this is goodbye again," he said reluctantly.

"Well, can we talk about that?"

 **Admiral Chegwidden's Office  
1530 Local**

"Sir, I could give you dozens of excuses for why you should take me back, but the simple truth is JAG is where I belong."

"Admiral, if she leaves again, I will personally—"

"Commander, if I were you, I would stop helping." Chegwidden's voice grew loud. "If it wasn't for top-level intervention, you'd be in your cell facing charges for brig break."

"Yes, sir." Harm straightened and came to attention. At least he'd tried to help Mac, but as it turned out, the admiral didn't process her terminal leave papers. She was still a US Marine, free to resume her duties immediately.

Things were looking up. His partner was returning. Her being away was like having a part of him missing. Now the two halves would once again be complete.

In the bullpen, Bud greeted them, handing Harm a package. "This came for you, Commander. Major, is it true you're coming back to JAG?"

"Looks that way, Bud."

Harm walked into his office. The envelope didn't have a return address. He ripped it open to find a black-and-white photo of several men taken at a train station. His eyes were drawn to one man in particular. There was a familiarity to him.

 _His father?_

"Harm, what is it?" Mac walked into the room. Seeing the words on the back of the photo, she said, "This one is real."

"It's my father. The photo was taken in 1980."


	8. Breakups and Betrayals

_A/N: As much as I liked Bud, he always seemed to turn up at the weirdest times, interrupting what could have been private moments for Harm and Mac. (The writers probably did it on purpose to keep them apart. I'm surprised they didn't have him tagging along to Russia!)_

 _Take for instance the scene at the end of Season Three's "Chains of Command." It was a perfect opportunity for our favorite duo to engage in serious conversation. Then Bud shows up lamenting his relationship with Harriet._

 _Some events will follow the episode, but as you might guess, others will be different._

 **Breakups and Betrayals  
**

 **March 3, 1998  
JAG Headquarters  
Falls Church, Virginia**

Lt. Cdr. Harmon Rabb walked into JAG Headquarters where his C. O. met him. His partner, Major Sarah Mackenzie entered the building right behind them.

"Walk with me," the admiral said, and the two them fell into step.

Mac had been back at JAG for a few weeks. The two of them had worked together on several assignments, some of them out of town. Things seemed to be getting back to normal. There was one problem. Dalton Lowne was still in the picture.

Harm didn't like him. He thought the man was sleazy and untrustworthy. Sure, he'd represented Cpl. Wetzel pro bono on the child custody case. But Harm didn't like the fact Mac was still seeing him.

Maybe Harm wouldn't have been so irritable about it if he was involved with someone. But Annie was no longer in the picture. She made herself scarce during the time he was on trial for murder. Afterward, when he called her up, she said no uncertain terms she didn't want Josh to be around someone who had been accused of murder.

It didn't matter he had been exonerated of the charges. In Annie's mind, he should have never gotten mixed up with a member of the Russian Mafia.

"Harm, you have to get over this search for your father. Let it go. You're obsessed."

"So are you."

"Me? What are you talking about?"

"You're obsessed about Luke's death. Yes, he was a fighter pilot. Yes, he died because of it. But he died doing something he loved. Don't you think Josh should be able to choose what career he wants?"

"That's none of your business. Besides, you're not a parent. You don't know what it's like to raise a son without a father."

"No, but I do know what it's like to be that son."

"Doesn't matter. You're not a good influence for Josh," she said.

"And you are?" Okay, so he went too far with that comment. Looking back now, Annie's departure from his life was best. The last thing he needed was a neurotic woman like her. She had been a distraction. Someone to be with because Mac wasn't around. Why had he thought Annie, or anyone for that matter, could take Mac's place?

After the admiral briefed them, Harm and Mac walked back to their respective offices, stopping by Bud's desk to inform him they were being sent to the Seahawk.

Bud protested. "But my test is next week."

"And we'll be back in plenty of time," Mac replied before going into her office.

Harriet walked to stand beside Bud's desk and made some comment about them meeting on the Seahawk. He murmured a reply, then she called him a goof and stormed off. Harm shook his head. Bud was smart and had all the makings of a fine lawyer, but sometimes those two acted so childishly.

 **March 6, 1998  
JAG Headquarters  
Falls Church, Virginia**

Harm and Mac stood in the admiral's office, giving him their report on the Seahawk investigation. Getting a conviction of sexual harassment on Master Chief Sullivan wouldn't be easy. Right now it was pretty much a case of "he said, she said."

"Admiral," Mac asked. "Who will defend the master chief?"

"Seems he has waived his right to military counsel and hired a civilian attorney." The intercom buzzed, and the admiral picked up the call. "What is it, Tiner?... Okay. Send him in."

Harm caught Mac's surprised look as Dalton Lowne breezed through the door, showing his usual arrogance.

"Dalton, this isn't a good time."

"Yes, it is." He nodded at Chegwidden. "Admiral."

"You're representing Master Chief Sullivan?" Mac asked.

"Yes, is that a problem?"

Harm couldn't help but smile. He would have a chance to face Lowne in court, and he knew he could beat that clown. Not only that, Mac wasn't happy about the fact Dalton was representing Sullivan. When he left the office, she followed, only to return a few minutes later to learn the admiral was removing her as assistant prosecuting attorney.

"Why, sir?"

"Pillow talk."

"Sir, I do not share a pillow with Dalton Lowne, and I can assure you that even if I did, I would not discuss the details of the case."

Harm's attempts to convince the admiral Mac always used discretion went unheeded.

"Major, we can't have even a hint of impropriety. Dismissed."

"Yes, sir." She turned and left.

The admiral wrinkled his brow after the door closed. "Commander, this Lowne character. Couldn't the major do better?"

Harm nodded in agreement, glad to know he wasn't the only one who thought that. But what was puzzling was the fact that Sullivan could afford an attorney that billed $500.00 per hour.

 **March 20, 1998  
JAG Headquarters  
Falls Church, Virginia**

Guilty.

Petty Officer Douglas was elated, Sullivan dejected, and Dalton disappointed.

"I knew I could beat that jerk," Harm thought as he strolled from the courtroom.

The case had its twists and turns. Douglas had omitted a couple of important details. Bobbie Latham came forward with information about the person who was paying Dalton's legal fees. He had an agenda. Keep women off warships.

Captain Ross first testified in support of Sullivan, then changed his mind after Harm spoke with Mrs. Ross.

Bud and Harriet were at odds with one another throughout the trial. Harm didn't think Harriet had forgiven Bud for not being entirely truthful about his recent trip to Miami. He was also convinced Bud had been trying to avoid meeting her parents. Them being on opposite sides in the courtroom didn't help the situation.

Not surprising that Lowne showed his true colors. He betrayed Mac by looking through her files in order to gain an advantage for his client. And the jerk had the gall to act like it was no big deal and couldn't understand why Mac wanted nothing more to do with him.

Harm saw Mac leave the building shortly after the trial concluded. She didn't even say goodbye. Sure, she had every right to be upset, but didn't she know she could talk to her best friend?

It was a Friday night, and Harm didn't relish the idea of spending an evening alone. He changed from his uniform into a pair of jeans and a button-down shirt, grabbed his leather jacket, and headed for a local bar.

He walked up to the jukebox and pressed the number to play "What Becomes of the Broken Hearted." Spotting an empty seat at the bar, he scurried across the room, then ordered a double bourbon as the song began to play.

"What becomes of the broken-hearted? Who had love that's now departed."

 _Come on. It's not like Annie broke your heart._

Quite the contrary. Harm was relieved she was gone.

"I walk in shadows searching for light. Cold and alone, no comfort in sight."

 _That's it. Behind that cocky aviator image is a man who doesn't want to alone._

Being alone had never bothered him before. In fact, he sort of liked bachelorhood. Someday, the right woman would come along, and then he would settle down.

"Hoping and praying for someone to care."

 _Someone to care. If only…_

Just at that moment, Mac walked up and sat beside him. "Hey," she said.

The bartender came to take her order, and she asked for a tonic water with a twist of lime. She looked at the glass of bourbon.

"Does this bother you?"

"It's _your_ drink."

Harm took a puff of his cigar.

"Not that bothers me." Mac's smile told him she was teasing. At least partially.

Harm had to know. "Dalton?"

"Gone."

Was she hurt? Sad? "Well, that's probably a good thing. You can do better than that."

"I thought he was pretty good."

"Mac, you're smart and attractive. I'm surprised men aren't knocking down your door. You deserve someone better."

"So are you going to play the big brother role and screen my potential boyfriends?"

"Mac, I told you once I don't think of you as a sister."

"Right. I'm just your partner at work."

"No, Mac. You're much more to me than that."


	9. Stalkers and Saviors

_A/N: Sorry for the delay in updating this story—I haven't forgotten about it. Sometimes the unexpected happens, and life has a way of keeping us from writing. Suffice to say it's been a bit chaotic around my house the past few weeks, and I haven't been able to wrap my brain around writing. However, things are beginning to settle back into a routine._

 _As with earlier chapters, you'll recognize some scenes from the show, but there will be differences. For one thing, Mac doesn't succumb to the temptation of drinking after Dalton's death. I'm not sure how I feel about this one. I seem to keep following the canon of the show, but I promise after a couple of more chapters, things are going to change._

 **Stalkers and Saviors**

 **April 9, 1998  
Pentagon Mall  
Arlington, Virginia**

Dalton Lowne did not give up easily. In spite of Mac's repeated attempts to dissuade him, he constantly called her, begging for a second chance. He couldn't seem to understand the word "no."

Mac had been unwilling to tell Harm about Dalton's persistence. She knew he'd never liked the civilian attorney and his actions of late would really set Harm on edge.

She and Harm seemed closer than they had ever been. She still considered him to be her best friend, but there seemed to be more. As if by unspoken agreement, neither of them were willing to discuss their growing relationship. Mac certainly didn't want to rush into anything, having just ended things with Dalton.

And although Harm had indicated Annie's departure was "no big deal," Mac had a feeling he wanted to take things slower.

She and Harm had begun to have dinner together two or three nights a week. Sometimes, she would go to his place where he would cook. Other times, he would come to her apartment, and they usually ordered take out.

They had yet to go out on a "real" date. Again, by unspoken agreement, they didn't want to complicate things at JAG. Although fraternization rules didn't apply—they were both of equal rank—they didn't want to be the subject of the latest office gossip. It was bad enough when Bud dropped by Harm's apartment unexpectedly one evening.

His eyes widened when Mac answered the door. "Major, I didn't expect to see you here. Hope I'm not interrupting anything."

Anyone would notice the candles Harm had placed on the table, the soft music, and the fact that neither Harm nor Mac was in uniform. Bud sometimes came across as being bumbling and clueless, but he was no dummy. Time for some damage control.

"You're not interrupting, Bud. Harm and I are going to discuss strategy on the Drake court-martial, and he offered to cook dinner."

"You should have told me. I could help. It wouldn't take me long to go back to the office and grab my notes—"

"Not necessary, Bud," Harm said. "Mac and I are just ironing out some final defense strategies. By the time you drove to Falls Church and back, we'll be finished."

"Oh, okay. If you're sure."

Mac couldn't help but notice Bud's disappointed look. He was a valuable assistant, and someday he would make an excellent attorney. But there were times he needed to be coddled.

"Positive, Bud. Besides, it's a Friday night. Don't you have plans with Harriet this evening?" Mac knew the two of them had finally made up.

"Yes, I'm supposed to meet her later."

"Then you don't need to keep her waiting."

"What brings you here, anyway, Bud?" Harm walked from the kitchen to the living room area.

"Oh, I just wanted to run a couple of things by you, Commander. Nothing that can't wait. I'll catch you in the office on Monday."

Harm followed Bud to the door and closed it after he left.

"Well, that was awkward," Mac said. "Think he'll say anything?"

"Bud? No. Well, maybe to Harriet."

"Might as well broadcast it over the news, then. I get the feeling Harriet loves to gossip."

But if Bud said anything, Harriet didn't indicate it. Even Bud seemed to have forgotten. Of course, that could be because the two of them were planning to be married in a few weeks and had other things on their minds.

A few nights later, when Harm was at Mac's house, Dalton called again. She didn't pick up the phone, but as usual, he left a message. "Sarah, you can't keep avoiding me. I'm not giving up. One of these days, we have to talk."

"What's the deal with Lowne?" Harm asked when the line clicked dead.

"He doesn't want to end things with us. Keeps calling me. No matter how many times I've told him it's over, he won't take no for an answer."

"That arrogant son of a bitch. Want me to set him straight? I have a good mind to show up at his office and—."

"No, Harm, please. I didn't say anything to you because I knew that's exactly what you'd want to do. Don't forget, he's an attorney with powerful connections. I don't want you to do anything that might put you or your career in jeopardy. Sooner or later, he'll give up and move on."

"And what if he doesn't?"

"Then, I'll deal with it. I'm a Marine, remember? Please, just stay out of things. It's not like he's stalking me or anything."

But a few days later, when leaving the Pentagon Mall, Mac was beginning to have doubts. She hurried through the parking garage, unable to shake the feeling she was being watched.

Once inside her SUV, she breathed a sigh of relief. She started the engine, shifted to reverse, then began to back up when she saw Dalton in the rearview mirror.

"Dalton, what are you doing here?"

"I'm not giving up. Sooner or later, you'll talk to me."

"I have nothing more to say to you. For such a 'brilliant' attorney, you're acting dense about this. Get this through your head. It's over, Dalton. Over. Now please leave me alone." Mac put the Jeep in gear and drove away, leaving him staring after her.

A few nights later, he phoned her apartment. "Sarah, please. I need to talk to you. Even God forgives. Please say you'll see me."

She'd had enough. It was time to set Dalton straight once and for all. He might be an attorney, but she wasn't above getting a restraining order if it came down to that. "Okay, Dalton. McMurphy's in half an hour. But this is the last time."

 **April 16, 1998  
McMurphy's Tavern  
1930 Local**

Mac took a seat at the bar and ordered tonic water while waiting for Dalton to arrive. Coming here was probably a mistake. The last thing she wanted was for him to think he still had a chance. But better to meet him here than to allow him to come to her apartment.

Sipping on her drink, she looked at her watch, the time confirming what her internal clock had already told her. Dalton was fifteen minutes late. It wasn't like him, as he had impeccable timing. It wasn't beyond the realm of possibility that he'd gotten stuck in traffic.

A few minutes later, she heard what sounded like gunshots following by the sound of screeching tires. Mac, along with a few other patrons, rushed to the door. Dalton lay in the street, bleeding profusely.

"Oh, God. Somebody call 9.1.1." Mac rushed to his side, removed her jacket, and pressed it against his chest in a futile attempt to stop the blood.

"Sarah," he whispered. "I love you. Please tell me you love me too."

She knew he was dying, so she leaned close to him. "I do, Dalton. I do." It was a bald-faced lie.

Dalton gave a faint smile, then closed his eyes.

 **Outside McMurphy's Tavern  
2030 Local**

"I'll need to question you, Major." Detective Frank Coster had been sent to investigate the homicide. "You spoke to the victim before he died. I need to know what he had to say."

"It was personal. Nothing that would help the investigation."

"I'll be the judge of that. Now we can talk here, or you can come down to the station."

"The Major is in no shape to go anywhere right now. Whatever she has to say can wait until tomorrow." Mac was grateful to see Harm.

"Your presence isn't needed here, Commander. Might as well leave."

"I go where the Major goes."

"Not necessary."

"I'm her attorney, and if you're questioning her, then I'm coming along."

It was after midnight when Coster finished questioning Mac. Harm had driven her home and stayed for a little while. He had wanted to take her into his arms to comfort her but knew the timing wasn't right. The last thing he wanted was to take advantage of her while she was in such a vulnerable state.

So, he had settled for a hug and a few caresses that let her know he was there for her.

 **April 17, 1998  
JAG Headquarters  
0830 Local**

Harm looked up from his desk, surprised to see Mac standing in his doorway. After last night's incident with Dalton, he thought she would probably stay home.

"Mac, what are you doing here?"

"Working. We have a client to defend, remember? I may not like the guy, and I think he's a sleaze, but as you pointed out, he has a right to the best defense counsel we can give him."

"Mac, I can handle Petty Officer Sevalas. You need to give yourself time to grieve."

"Grieve? Whatever feelings I once had for Dalton disappeared when he betrayed me. There was nothing left between us—at least not on my part."

"Okay, then, at the least you should get some rest. Let me take you home."

"I'm fine, Harm."

"Mac, no offense, but you look like hell. Did you get any sleep at all?"

"Maybe an hour."

"Come on. I'm taking you home."

Half an hour later, they entered her apartment. "I'll make some tea while you change clothes." Harm started toward the kitchen when Mac called out to him.

"Harm!"

He rushed to her bedroom to see everything in disarray. Dresser drawers were open, clothes, including her lingerie, were strewn about the room. But the most alarming thing was the words scribbled above her bed. _Even God Forgives._

 **April 23, 1998  
Admiral Chegwidden's Home  
1900 Local**

It had been a tough week for both Mac and Harm. Someone was stalking her, and it wasn't Dalton. But who was it? The person had been able to enter her apartment, trash the place, and even put a bug on her phone. The fact the police hadn't been able to catch the suspect was disturbing to Harm. So, with Mac's agreement, he devised a plan to smoke the guy out.

He shook his head and tried to enjoy the party. He didn't want to be here, but since his CO had put together this little get together, he felt obligated. The big surprise was meeting Francesca Paretti. Who would have guessed the fiery Italian who had bumped into his car a few days earlier was the admiral's daughter?

Francesca was attractive, and under other circumstances, Harm wouldn't have minded getting to know her better. But she wasn't Mac.

It had taken a lot of persuasion on Harm's part for her to attend tonight's event. She was convinced everyone would know she'd fallen off the wagon earlier today. What's more, she was beating herself up over the hurtful things she'd said to Harm. After she arrived at the party, she seemed to be enjoying herself.

That's why he was surprised when he looked up to see her walking out the door, without telling him she was leaving.

Quickly making his excuses, Harm rushed out the door to follow her. She'd gotten a head start, but he knew he'd be able to find her. The plan was in place.

 **April 23, 1998  
Undisclosed Location, Washington DC  
2130 Local**

Harm readied his weapon before opening the door of the old warehouse. He hated the thought of Mac being here, but according to the tracking device provided by Petty Officer Sevalas, she was close by.

The place was creepy. He walked softly so that he wouldn't draw attention to himself. Somehow, he knew Mac was in this building. He had to find her. Save her.

Halfway down the stairs, he felt a jolt of electricity to his ankles. He fell the rest of the way, dropping his gun, momentarily feeling addled. When he regained his composure, he heard a somewhat familiar voice.

"Commander Rabb. I might have known you'd show up. Couldn't leave well enough alone. Or maybe I should say you couldn't leave Sarah alone."

"Coster. I had a bad feeling about you. Where's Mac?"

"Don't worry. I'm taking good care of her."

Harm looked around the room. Pictures of Mac were everywhere. Enlarged photos taken outside her apartment, in a parking garage, outside JAG headquarters. There was even one of her in the alley by McMurphy's, kneeling beside Dalton's body.

"You're a sick individual, Coster."

"Maybe so, Commander, but in the end, I'll get the girl, not you. Didn't believe her for a minute when she said there were no other men in her life. The two of you are practically inseparable." Coster raised his gun and aimed it at Harm.

Mac knew she had to act fast in order to save Harm. Coster meant business. He killed Dalton and would kill Harm or any other man whom he perceived to be a threat to him.

Being strapped to the chair made it nearly impossible for her to do anything. Coster had retied the gag in her mouth after forcing her to drink the vodka.

The bottle. That's it. If she could move the chair just a little bit…

A sound of glass falling onto the concrete floor startled Coster, and he looked in the direction of the noise. It was enough time for Harm to lunge for his gun, aim, and fire. The detective fell backward into a shelf, causing it to fall.

Harm rushed to Mac's side, not bothering to check on Coster. He didn't care if the bastard was alive or dead but was confident he'd inflicted enough damage to prevent him from doing any more harm to either of them.

He rushed to Mac's side, hurrying to take the gag out of her mouth. The smell of alcohol was strong.

"Woah, Mac. Are you okay?"

"I am now. He forced me to drink vodka. I didn't want it… All those years of sobriety wasted."

"No, they're not, Mac. This wasn't your fault. You're going to pick yourself up and move forward. You're a lean, mean fighting Marine, and you'll overcome this. What's more, I'll be right by your side." He quickly untied her from the chair.

"Harm. I don't want to be alone tonight. I'm not sure I can go back to my apartment."

"Then stay with me. Come on, let's get out of here."


	10. Exorcizing Ghosts

_A/N: Okay, this is short, but the idea came to me in the middle of the night. Although I've written most of the story in third person, this part is first person from Harm's point of view._

 **Exorcizing Ghosts**

 **April 24, 1998  
North of Union Station  
0330 Local**

I must be the dumbest man on earth. A beautiful woman is asleep in my bed, and here I am lying on the sofa. Alone. And it's not just any woman. It's Mac.

After finishing up with the police, and seeing Coster's ass hauled off to jail, Mac and I drove straight here. I called the Admiral to apologize for leaving the party early and to explain what happened with Mac. Guess having his daughter around put him in a good mood. He generously gave both Mac and me a day off.

"Take care of her, Commander," he said. "I'll see you both on Monday."

I made us a cup of tea, then we sat together on the sofa. Mac was still shaken from the ordeal, and rightfully so. We sat in silence for a while. I decided for once I wouldn't put my foot in my mouth. If she wanted to talk about it, okay. If not, that was fine too.

After a while, she put her cup on the coffee table and turned to me. "Thank you for being there for me, Harm."

"Well, I did have a little trouble finding you. Sorry I got there late."

"But you came. That's what's important. I don't know what I would have done…"

I put my finger to her lips to silence her. "Mac, I'd go to the ends of the earth to find you."

With that, she put her hands around my neck and pulled me toward her, placing her lips upon mine. We'd shared a few kisses over the past several weeks, but something was different tonight. It wasn't a just kiss between friends. It was so much more.

It would have been easy to let go. To give in to desire. After all, I'm a red-blooded, healthy, heterosexual male. When I felt Mac's tongue brush the seam of my lips, it took all my willpower not to give in.

I pulled away. "Mac, we shouldn't do this."

She opened her eyes, and those chocolate orbs looked at me. I almost melted at her gaze. Then, she turned away and stood up quickly. "I'm sorry, Harm. I don't know what got into me. Maybe I'd better go home."

"No, Mac. You don't need to be alone tonight. Stay here. You can have the bed, and I'll sleep on the couch."

"I don't have anything to wear."

"I can take care of that," I say, jumping to my feet, then hurrying to the bedroom to grab a Naval Academy t-shirt.

"Guess I am a little tired." Mac disappeared into my bathroom to change while I got an extra pillow and blanket from the closet. She walked out a few minutes later, her long, shapely legs visible beneath my t-shirt.

"Good night, Harm. Thanks for letting me stay," she said as she climbed beneath the covers.

It was all I could do not to join her. She hadn't wanted to be alone. I'm sure she wouldn't mind if I slipped in the bed beside her. After all, it wouldn't have been the first time we'd hot bunked. Memories of our night in the Appalachian Mountains came to mind.

But back then, we were just friends. So, now I'm on the sofa, alone and wide-awake. Thinking about Mac. My partner, my best friend, my…

What exactly is our relationship? I meant it when I told her I didn't think of her as a sister. I've never thought of her in those terms. From the first moment we met in the White House Rose Garden, there was something special about her.

Sure, I was shocked because she looked like Diane. I mean, they could have been twins separated at birth. And maybe the resemblance is what attracted me to her at first, but it didn't take long for me to realize they were as different as daylight and dark.

Diane was more fun-loving and carefree. Mac was a no-nonsense Marine who wouldn't take any of my crap. I found that out that night in the desert when we worked our first case together.

 _"Hey, there's a bed in here."_

 _"So?"_

 _"Fits our cover story."_

I wasn't trying to seduce her. Really I wasn't. Sex has always come easily for me. I enjoy women and haven't ever had any trouble getting one into bed. Okay, I'll admit the dress whites and gold wings often work in my favor. Except with Mac. She told me they're overrated.

But the truth of the matter is I've never wanted casual sex with Mac. The weekend fling with Kate Pike cured me of that. It affected how we worked together. Although she never said so, it's probably the reason she requested a transfer out of JAG headquarters. I'm damn lucky she still considers me a friend.

Then, there was Meg Austin. Our relationship was strictly professional, even though there were times I thought she wanted more. But I wasn't going to risk losing another partner because of a one-night stand. That's all it would have ever been with Meg.

Mac means so much more to me than either of my previous partners. I'm not sure I could take it if something happened to destroy our friendship. And yes, I want more from her but I don't want to screw this up.

Tonight, the timing was wrong. Mac was in a vulnerable state of mind, and I don't want her having regrets. When we do come together, I want it to be special—no memories of crazed stalkers or ghosts of past lovers.

I stand up, then quietly walk across the room. Opening the drawer of my desk, I pull out a box of letters.

I have some ghosts to exorcise.


	11. Finding a Killer

_A/N: We're getting closer to Harm and Mac's trip to Russia, and I promise things will be much different than it was on the show. But before then, Harm still needs to deal with a few things. This chapter is based on the episode Death Watch, but I'm sure some of you will recognize a slightly altered scene from Season Four's Webb of Lies. (Minimindbender, that part is for you.)_

 **Finding a Killer**

 **May 8, 1998  
North of Union Station  
1856 Local**

Lightning streaked across the sky as Mac hurried from her car to the building that housed Harm's loft. Inside the door, she stopped to shake the excess water from her umbrella, thankful she'd worn her raincoat.

Only a few sprinkles were falling when she left her Georgetown apartment, but by the time she reached Union Station, the rain came in sheets. Typical for a spring evening in DC.

Mac pressed the button for the ancient elevator, stepped inside, then waited for its slow ascent. She could have taken the stairs, but there was no hurry. Harm said to come at 1900, so she still had three minutes and forty-six seconds before he expected her.

She wondered if subconsciously she was putting off her arrival as long as possible. Tonight was the first time she'd been back to Harm's place since the night Coster was arrested. The night she'd wanted more than friendship from Harm. For the hundredth time, she wondered why she'd initiated that kiss.

Sure, they had kissed before then, and had even shared a few since. Unless they were at work, or in a public setting dressed in uniform, it had become routine for them to kiss goodbye. But those were more like a kiss between friends, short and chaste—nothing intimate.

Mac had awakened before Harm the following morning. The soft cotton sheets and down-filled pillow carried the musky scent of his cologne. She lay there, thinking about the night before. Why had Harm put a stop to things? Was friendship all he wanted from her? Had she read his signals all wrong?

Maybe she could slip out without waking him and avoid what could prove to be an awkward situation. But Harm had driven her in his 'Vette, so short of taking a cab, she didn't have transportation.

Before long, she heard him stirring and was surprised when his footsteps came toward the bedroom. She looked to see him standing at the top of the stairs, clad only in a pair of Navy-issued white boxers.

It was all she could do not to gawk. Damn, he looked good. She'd seen him without a shirt a couple of times before, but he was practically naked. The man had to work out every day, as evidenced by his muscular biceps, perfect pecs, and abdomen. But that's not all she noticed. He had just the right amount of chest hair, which tapered down to his flat stomach and below the waistband of his boxers. Mac found herself wondering what he looked like beneath them… Desire pooled within her.

"Mac." His voice brought her out of her reverie. "Sorry to disturb you, but I need to use the head."

He disturbed her all right, but now in the way he meant. "I, uh," She cleared her throat. "I was already awake."

Later, Harm had driven her home. There had been none of the awkwardness she feared. Neither of them mentioned the kiss, and their relationship continued to grow deeper.

Still, Mac was a little nervous when she reached Harm's door. _Suck it up, Marine. He wouldn't have offered to cook for you tonight if he didn't want you here._ Taking a deep breath, she raised her hand to knock.

 **North of Union Station  
Earlier That Evening**

Harm sat in the darkness, smoking a cigar. Letters and postcards from Diane were strewn about the coffee table. The rumbling of the thunder and pounding rain outside his window matched his mood. The evening had turned into a nightmare.

He and Mac were drawing closer. It was time to take their relationship to the next level. At least, he was ready, and after the night Mac spent in his apartment, he felt certain she wanted more than friendship between them. Before he could let go, he needed to put Diane's ghost to rest. One of the best ways to do that was to read all her letters—the ones she'd sent to him as well as the ones he'd sent her.

He'd kept them stored away until two weeks ago. After taking Mac home, he came back to the loft and began reading them one by one. He laughed when he read a postcard she'd sent from Italy, remembering her sense of humor. Diane had been a good friend, and at one time, he thought something more might develop between them.

However, with each letter and card he read, Harm realized things would have never worked out between them. After the Academy, they went their separate ways. They missed more than they connected. It was just as well. Fate has a way of making things work out for the best.

Had Diane lived, Harm was confident they would have remained good friends. Still, she didn't deserve to die at the hands of a ruthless killer. Since the investigation was complete, Harm had doubts about Lt. Lamm's guilt. Now he knew the truth. The real identity of her killer.

There was no way he could prove it in court, but justice had to be done.

Harm grabbed his keys, then walked to the drawer where he kept his service revolver. He put in a fresh clip of ammo. There was just enough time to get to Norfolk

A knock came to his door. Who would be out on a night like this? He tucked the weapon in the waistband of his jeans before looking through the peephole.

* * *

Mac wondered why Harm was taking so long. It was two minutes and forty-three seconds before he opened the door.

"Hey," she said, looking at the darkened apartment. "You forgot."

"The Lieutenant Murphy court-martial."

"Yeah, you were going to fix dinner and we were going to lay out the case."

"Sorry, Mac. Can I have a rain check?"

"Oh, very funny."

"No seriously, something's come up. I was just leaving. Look I'll grab my jacket and I'll walk you to your car."

Mac immediately saw the gun when Harm turned around. Something was wrong. Harm wasn't acting like himself.

"An old shipmate of mine is in town just for the evening. I haven't seen him in years. We're going to get together and…" Harm paused as Mac picked up a photo lying on the coffee table. "…have a drink."

"With a weapon?"

"No wonder you looked like you'd seen a ghost when we first met. This could be me."

"Not really. Come on Mac, I gotta get going."

"To meet a friend?"

"A shipmate."

"With a weapon?"

Harm looked away.

"Talk to me, Harm."

 **May 8, 1998  
JAG Headquarters  
2330 Local**

Mac was soaking wet. After Harm tricked her and had driven away on his quest to confront Diane's killer, she phoned Bud, who agreed to meet her at headquarters. She had to find out where he was going. Killing Turque would likely guarantee Harm would spend the rest of his life in Leavenworth.

She couldn't allow that to happen. Her uncle was already there serving time. Now the one other person who she cared the most about was about to destroy his life.

"Got here as fast as I could, Major." Bud walked into her office. "Want me to find an NCIS personnel file?"

"Not without a code."

"I can get in."

Within minutes, Bud tapped into Turque's file.

"He can't be in Seattle."

"Apparently so."

"Did you ever see him and Lt. Schonke together?"

"Pardon?"

"On board, during the deployment."

"Agent Turque wasn't on the cruise."

"He wasn't the NCIS agent on board?"

"No, what gave you that idea."

"Damn you, Harm."

 **May 9, 1998  
Norfolk, Virginia  
0415 Local**

Thanks to Bud, Mac felt certain she knew who Harm believed was Diane's killer. She only hoped they would be in time to prevent him from making the biggest mistake of his life.

She jumped out of the car, and ran toward the dock. Harm stood in front of a sailor with his gun pointed toward him.

"Harm, no!"

"Oh, my God. Schonke." Holbarth began to back up. "No. I didn't mean to. I'm sorry. I didn't mean…" He fell backward into the water.

"I'll get help." Bud ran away.

"It won't do any good, he was crushed between the hull and the dock."

"He thought you were Diane's ghost."

"I didn't think about that. I was soaked and Bud gave me one of Harriet's uniforms."

Harm didn't speak.

"Would you have killed him?"

"We'll never know." His voice took on that sexy, husky tone as he moved toward her.

Mac mad no effort to stop the kiss. When he pulled away, she said, "I know. You were kissing her."

His eyes never left her face, but he didn't confirm or deny her statement.

They walked side-by-side back to the car.

A murder had been solved that night, but Mac couldn't help but wonder if Diane's ghost would always come between her and Harm.


	12. Admisions

_A/N: The timeline for this story doesn't exactly follow the show (the episode where the identity of Diane's killer aired earlier in the year). I'll also skip over a few episodes, as they have no bearing on the outcome of this story. This is Fanfiction, and I'm using author's privilege. Anyway, only another chapter or two before Harm and Mac leave for Russia._

 **Admissions**

 **May 22, 1998  
JAG Headquarters  
1430 Local**

"Got any plans for tonight?"

Mac looked up from her desk to see Harm standing in the doorway. The week following their return from Norfolk had been a busy one. They spent a lot of time together, but only to work on the Murphy court-martial. The trial concluded that morning after Murphy's attorney convinced him to change his plea to guilty. Another victory for the Rabb-Mackenzie team.

Neither of them mentioned Diane after they returned to Washington. Mac rode back with Harm, Bud having stayed to answer any questions regarding Holbarth's death. The silence in the car was almost too much for Mac. Harm had kept his eyes focused on the road, and when she asked him anything, he responded with one-word answers. After a while, she gave up and closed her eyes, not expecting to sleep.

She was surprised when she opened her eyes to see the outskirts of DC. Harm glanced in her direction. "I'll take you home."

"Would it be any trouble to drop me off at headquarters? I left my car there and rode with Bud to Norfolk."

"Not a problem."

"Hey, do you want to stop for breakfast? We didn't eat dinner last night remember?"

"No. I'm tired. I just want to go home and crash."

"Another raincheck?"

"What?"

"Never mind."

When Harm showed up at headquarters on Monday, he was all business—focused on their task at hand. They discussed strategies, interviewed witnesses, and poured over evidence. They arrived at work early and stayed late. By the time they went into the courtroom, both were confident they had an ironclad case against Murphy.

While Mac cherished the time she'd been able to spend with Harm, it hurt to see him so aloft. Unlike the past few weeks, there had been no tender good-bye kisses, no soft touches, and no invitations to get together after work.

What had she been to him, a substitute for Diane? Now that Harm knew the identity of her killer had he put her memory to rest and with it, any feelings he might have had for Mac? She recalled their first meeting and Admiral Chegwidden's words of warning.

 _You two know each other?_

 _Yes, sir._

 _No, sir._

 _Oh, I'm sorry, major. Of course, I don't know you. I just had a moment of déjà vu._

 _It must be the uniform._

 _No, actually, she was in the Navy._

 _Don't get too familiar. You're gonna work together._

If only she had heeded his advice.

Harm's voice brought her back to the present.

"Hey, Marine. You with me?"

"Sorry, Harm. Just thinking. What were you saying?"

Harm walked into her office, closing the door behind him. "I asked if you had plans for tonight. I believe I owe you dinner."

"Dinner?" Mac frowned. "Why?"

"From the other night. Remember I was supposed to cook."

"Oh. Well, the Murphy court-martial is over, and we don't have any important cases upcoming, so it's not necessary."

Something flashed in his eyes. Hurt? Regret? But he was too quick to cover his emotions.

"Come on, Mac. Does everything we do together have to be work related? Can't we share a nice dinner between friends? It's not like we haven't done that before. I thought we— Forget it. You probably have plans anyway." Harm turned and started to leave.

"Wait, Harm. I don't have any plans, and I'd love to have dinner with you."

He flashed his flyboy grin. "Great. Come over about 1900."

"Can I bring anything?"

"Just yourself."

 **North of Union Station  
1858 Local**

"You're early," Harm said as the opened the door.

"Only one minute and twenty-six seconds."

"Are you ever going to tell me how you do that?"

"Probably not," Mac said as she walked into the apartment. The atmosphere was so much different than the week before. There were music and candles—much like when he'd cooked dinner for her shortly after Annie's departure.

That night, they had planned to work on a case. Tonight, there was nothing involving the Navy, Marines, or JAG. Hopefully, Bud wouldn't show up again unexpectedly.

"Can I help with anything?"

"Everything's done. Have a seat." Harm motioned toward the table.

The silence during dinner was palpable. At times, Mac would catch Harm looking at her and wondered if he was seeing her as Diane. She wanted—no needed—to know, but decided to let him make the first move. Besides, she knew Harm well enough to know he would only talk about Diane if and when he was ready.

Harm refused Mac's offer to help clean up. "Go sit down. It'll only take a few minutes."

Mac sat on the sofa, resisting the urge to wring her hands. She wasn't sure how much more of this she could take. Harm had invited her over and still hadn't spoken more than a dozen or so words. What was the point in her coming? And why was he taking so long to load the dishwasher and put away a few leftovers?

 _Maybe I should just leave._

"Hey, Mac? Want some coffee?"

"Not if I want to get any sleep tonight."

"I have decaf."

 _Ugh! Might as well drink hot water._

She started to answer no when Harm walked into the room carrying a plate with a large slice of chocolate cake.

"Harm! You made dessert?"

"No. Picked it up from a nearby bakery. Triple chocolate delight."

"Maybe I will have that cup of coffee."

"Coming right up."

He returned a few minutes later carrying two steaming cups.

"Aren't you having any cake?"

"Nah. Gotta keep in shape. That means lots of exercise and eating healthy foods."

How much better shape did he want to be in? She thought about the night she'd seen him dressed only in his boxers. There wasn't an ounce of fat anywhere on his muscular body.

Mac, on the other hand, had no aversion to eating unhealthy foods. Beltway burgers, fries, delicious desserts. She was blessed to have the kind of metabolism that allowed her to indulge in such delights.

Harm sat next to her on the sofa, watching as she delved into the cake. "This is delicious, Harm. You mean you bought it just for me?"

"You're worth it. In fact, you deserve a lot more from me. I've been—"

Mac almost choked at his words. She picked the wrong time to try to swallow. It took a bit to get the coughing under control.

"You okay, Ninja Girl?"

"Yeah, I just swallowed wrong." She sat the half-eaten slice of cake on the table and turned to him. The time had come to put an end to his silence. She couldn't go on this way, not knowing if he saw her as Diane's ghost or as Mac.

You were saying?"

"Mac, I haven't been fair to you."

 _Oh no. This is it. He's going to tell me he sees me as a substitute for Diane._ She decided to play it cool. Later, when she was alone, there would be time for tears.

"How's that?"

"I wasn't honest with you about Diane. I should have told you about her when we first met."

"Well, if I recall we were busy on an investigation."

"I mean after we got back to Washington. You deserved to know the truth. It was only a few months after her murder when I met you. The shock of seeing someone who could pass for her twin was almost too much for me."

"It explains a lot. You looked like you'd seen a ghost. But we didn't know one another. There was no reason for you to tell me all about your past."

"Maybe not then, but after we became friends, I should have told you about her. I didn't intend for you to walk in here and learn about Diane through a photograph."

"Life doesn't always go as planned."

"Tell me about it."

"Yeah, if Diane hadn't been murdered, your life might be a lot different now."

Harm shrugged. "Maybe. Mac, what I wanted to thank you for following me to Norfolk. Honestly, I could have easily killed Holbarth for what he did."

"I can imagine. Diane meant a lot to you."

"She did, but… I don't know. The more I think about it, the more I can't see the two of us spending the rest of our lives together. I've done a lot of thinking about it, and there was a reason why we always seemed to hit and miss. It wasn't just because of the Navy and our assignments."

Harm's words surprised Mac. "Go on."

"Anyway, I cared for her deeply. But not in the way I would for a woman I want to spend the rest of my life with."

"Harm, I have to know something. That night at Norfolk, when we kissed on the dock, who did you see?"

"You, Mac. I was kissing you. Not Diane."


	13. Interruptions and Investigations

_A/N: Okay, don't shoot me. I know Harm and Mac had too many interruptions on the show, but I'm not quite ready for them to be together as a couple. (It's coming soon, I promise.) In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this section which picks up from last chapter's cliffhanger. Again, I'm not following the exact timeline of the show. The episode Clipped Wings aired before Bud and Harriet's wedding and of course, Bud accompanied Harm and Mac to Italy. I didn't see the need to have him along in this story._

 **Interruptions and Investigations**

 **North of Union Station  
2100 Local**

"I was kissing you. Not Diane."

"Me? But I thought… with the Navy uniform, you'd see me as her."

Harm shook his head. "Mac, the kiss was—"

The phone rang—its loud, shrill tone shattering the peaceful atmosphere. Harm recognized the admiral's number. He looked apologetically at Mac before answering.

"Rabb."

"Sorry to do this to you, commander, but there's been a mishap involving the pilot of an F14." Chegwidden filled Harm in on the details. "I need someone there with your expertise. Your flight leaves Andrews in an hour. I figure you can wrap up the investigation and be back within a week or so."

"But Sir, Lt. Roberts' wedding is—"

"Next Saturday. I know. That's why I'm not sending him along."

 _But I'm the best man._ Harm didn't voice the words. Instead, he said, "Understood, Sir. Major Mackenzie and I can handle it."

"Oh, she's not going with you. I need her here in Washington. Commander, I know you tend to favor aviators, but I trust you'll put aside your feelings and handle this in a fair and impartial manner."

"I'll do my best, sir." Harm ended the call.

"Sorry, Mac. That was the admiral. I've got to get to Andrews. He's sending me out to the Seahawk for an investigation."

"Alone?"

"Yeah. Said he needed you here and that he wasn't sending Bud because of the upcoming wedding."

"Will you be back in time?"

"I hope so. Sorry I need to hurry. My flight leaves in an hour."

"It's okay. I'll finish cleaning up here and lock up on my way out. You'd better pack your sea bag."

"Already done." Harm flashed his flyboy grin, bolted up the stairs to his bedroom, and was back in a couple of minutes.

"I'm impressed, Sailor."

"Well, a certain Marine taught me the importance of always being prepared." He sat the bag on the floor, then put his arms around Mac. "Wish I didn't have to go now. I promise I'll be back as soon as I can."

"I understand, Harm. Duty calls." With that, she pulled him toward her, and their lips met in a searing kiss.

When they broke apart to take a breath, Harm said, "Mac, I— Damn. There are so many things I need to say to you."

"I'll be waiting. Stay safe, Harm."

 **June 4, 1998  
Headquarters Allied Forces Southern Europe  
1330 Local**

"This hearing is recessed until 1600."

Captain Murphy approached. "Thank you, Commander."

"Captain."

"And you, Major.

Harm turned to look at Mac. Yes, he had "defeated" her in court, but the truth came out. And as he once told Bud, "The truth is everything."

"I'll be recommending that the government drop all charges against your client, Harm, and return him to flight status."

Bobbie Latham approached before Harm had a chance to respond. "Good job. Both of you." Turning to Harm she added, "I'll see you shortly."

Harm had returned from the Seahawk investigation barely in time for Bud and Harriet's wedding. Although he had Mac were able to see one another there, it wasn't the time or place to continue their discussion about Diane.

They shared a few dances at the reception before Carolyn Imes interrupted them, asking for a dance. Harm reluctantly obliged—in truth he didn't care to dance with any woman but Mac—but he could hardly refuse without appearing rude. And anyway, he wasn't ready for the world to know his feelings for Mac ran deeper than friendship. Hell, he hadn't been able to tell her.

After ending the dance with Carolyn, one of Harriet's bridesmaids approached him, making some comment about his dress whites and gold wings. After a few minutes of non-committal responses, she left him alone.

Harm was trying to figure out a way to leave early when he got caught in the throng of eligible bachelors for the garter toss. Somehow, without intending to do so, Harm caught it. Sometimes being tall had its disadvantages.

But when Mac caught the bride's bouquet a few minutes later, he couldn't help but wonder if fate had stepped in. He wasn't a superstitious person or one given to silly traditions, but what were the odds? He shot a glance in her direction when the admiral approached him to say both he and Mac needed to be on a flight to Italy that night.

Harm would defend an F14 pilot involved in the collision with a helicopter. Six civilians died. Mac would prosecute. Both left the wedding reception separately to rush to their apartments, change, and get to Dulles in time for the flight.

It was a high-profile case that not only held legal ramifications with Italian authorities but also could impact the future of US Naval operations in Italy. Somehow, Harm wasn't surprised when Bobbie Latham showed up outside his apartment in a limousine to take him to the airport. Although she stated she wanted Harm's client to have the best possible defense, it wasn't hard to know she was more concerned about keeping ties with US allies.

She arrived in Italy a few days later to smooth over the political aspects, enlisting Harm's help. Between the trial, mollycoddling the congresswoman, and fulfilling his promise to the admiral to check on Francesca, he hadn't been able to spend any time alone with Mac.

That was about to change. The trial was over, and they would be flying back to DC later tonight.

He was about to approach Mac to ask if she wanted to have dinner before they left for the airport when Francesca walked up to him. Would he and Mac ever catch a break?

"You have to go?"

"Yes."

"You will tell my father I said hello?"

"Well, I'll think about it."

"It's too bad, commander, that we are parting only as friends."

Harm tried to make light of her words. "Well, I was just happy we're still speaking."

"I was hoping for more." At that, Francesca surprised him by placing a kiss on both his cheeks.

"Ciao." She turned and left.

Just as well. Harm wasn't interested in pursuing a relationship with her.

"Looks like you have a new admirer," Mac said.

"Huh! That was awkward. Come on, Mac. Let's get this over with. The sooner we get out of here, the better."

 **June 4, 1988  
Somewhere in the Skies Above Europe  
2130 Local**

Mac looked over at Harm, who was seated by the window. He'd been quiet since they boarded the plane. It had taken them longer than expected to wrap up everything. First, they had to face the press. Then, Bobbie Latham tried to monopolize Harm's time, even suggesting he stay over another day and they could "have a celebration dinner and take in some of the local sites."

He had refused, saying he was needed back in Washington. But now, Mac couldn't help but wonder if he regretted not accepting her invitation. Maybe Bobbie was more suited for Harm. She loved the ride in the F14, totally opposite of Mac, who had gotten sick when Harm took her up. After the incident with the poachers, Mac was even hesitant to fly with him again in Sarah. Bobbie would have no such qualms.

Was that the reason for his silence? Did he want to pursue a relationship with the attractive congresswoman? Or, despite what he said, with Francesca? One thing was certain. Harm never had a shortage of women admirers.

A few days ago, Mac had been worrying about competing with Diane's ghost. Now she faced bigger adversaries. Why would someone like Harm, who could have any woman he wanted, become involved with her? Especially knowing her background. Abandoned by her mother. Verbally abused by her father. A teenage alcoholic. Helping get her best friend killed.

The more Mac thought about it, the more she wouldn't want to become involved with a person with so much garbage in their background. Then again, she wondered what it would be like if the situation were reversed. What if Harm had come from the abusive background? If he was the recovering alcoholic? If he had been partially responsible for someone's death?

She didn't have to think twice. She would stay by this man through thick and thin. That's why it hurt so much to think he might be interested in another woman.

"You okay, Mac?"

Harm's voice surprised her. "What? Yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking."

"About the case?"

"Uh, yeah," she lied. Better than to let him know her real thoughts. "It was a tough situation. Even though it was an accident, innocent lives were lost."

"Things happen. Whether we want them to or not. Both Lt. Gordon and Arianna have a long road ahead of them. It won't be easy."

Mac knew Harm spoke from the voice of experience. What had she been thinking earlier? Harm was responsible for someone's death, even though it was an accident. She remembered the time that high and mighty congresswoman DeLong rubbed it in his face during an investigation on the Seahawk. Mac had wanted to strangle the woman.

"Are _you_ okay?"

"I will be. Just brought up old memories. Lt. Gordon asked me how he got past the fact he'd killed innocent people."

"What did you tell him?"

"That he would learn to live with it. But when you think you have it tucked away in some little compartment in the back of your mind, something will come along to remind you of it." "You're thinking of your ramp strike." "Yeah." "Harm, you were cleared of any wrongdoing." "Doesn't change the fact Mace died because of me." Mac reached for his hand. "I wish there was something I could do for you."

Harm looked at her and smiled. "You already have, Mac. You already have. He twined their fingers together.


	14. New Information

_A/N: This is what I call a "housekeeping" chapter as I'm setting up for the trip to Russia. Much of the dialogue was taken directly from the episode, "To Russia With Love." I altered a couple of things. For instance, did you get the feeling Trish was relieved that Harm was no longer seeing Annie?_

 **New Information**

 **JAG Headquarters  
September 9, 1998  
1400 Local**

Spring turned into summer and with it came a multitude of cases. Harm and Mac were out of town almost as much as they were home. When they were in Washington, they spent time together outside of work, running together on the weekends or getting together for dinner a couple of nights a week.

Sometimes they would rent a movie and watch it at Mac's place. Harm adamantly refused to buy a TV. Neither of them mentioned Diane again. The conversation Harm began the night he left for Seahawk was still unfinished.

Overall, they felt comfortable around one another. But there were times when Mac sensed Harm was holding back. Since their investigation on the Hornet almost a year earlier, Harm had never forgiven himself for letting the book containing his father's name slip away. He hadn't talked a lot about his since his Article 32 hearing, but Mac knew Harm Sr. was never far from his mind.

She wanted to help him. If only he would let her in…

* * *

Harm walked across the bullpen toward his office. He'd just wrapped up a court case where he'd prosecuted a petty officer accused of desertion. The members found him guilty. The sentencing phase would begin at 0900 in the morning.

He stopped short at his office door when he saw Clayton Webb seated behind his desk holding a photo. It wasn't hard to figure out it was the photo of Harm's father taken in Siberia. Harm had shown the picture to the spook a few weeks earlier, hoping he might be able to help identify any of the men.

"You found something?"

Clay looked up at Harm, pointed to a couple of men, and identified them as former KGB agents.

"And this," he said, pausing as if to bring about a dramatic effect. "This is Major Viktor Lushov."

"KGB?"

"Soviet Air Force. He specialized in dissecting our aerial weapons systems during Vietnam and the Cold War. In 1970, Major Lushov was in Hanoi, interrogating downed flyers. At the time, he was particularly interested in Navy pilots who flew Iron Hand missions."

"Those were the missions my dad was flying when he went down. What's he doing in a photo taken ten years later?"

"Why don't you ask him? Lushov's in San Diego, working for Consolidated Aircraft as a systems engineer. He came here in '89, goes by the name of Sam Lewis."

* * *

Mac shouldn't have been surprised to see Clayton Webb in Harm's office. He had a way of turning up like a bad penny. She hoped he wasn't trying to recruit them for another one of his missions. Everything the spook did seemed to go south. How many times did Webb expect her and Harm to bail him out?

But when he left a few minutes later, she figured he was here for another reason. It didn't take long for her to learn why when Harm appeared at her door a few minutes later. He entered the room, closing the door behind him.

"What's up with Webb?"

"He had some information for me. Mac, there's someone living in San Diego who could tell me more about my father."

"Who might that be?"

"A former member of Soviet air force. He's in the photo taken of my father in Siberia."

"I don't have to guess you're going to San Diego."

"Yeah, Mac. I need to do this."

"What are you going to tell the admiral?"

"That I plan to fly cross country to Miramar, keep my flight status current, and at the same time, visit my mom."

"You're not going to tell him the truth?"

"It is the truth. Just not the whole truth. Look, if this works out, I'll fly out on Friday for a long weekend. I'm sorry, I know we had plans."

"It's okay, Harm. This is important to you. And it's probably been a while since you last saw your mother."

Harm flashed his flyboy grin. "Well, you could go with me. That is if you don't mind riding in the backseat of a Tomcat."

Mac rolled her eyes. "No, thanks. Do what you need to do. I'll see you when you get back."

 **LaJolla, California  
September 11, 1998  
1530 Local**

"What's a son need to do to get a drink around here? The sun is over the yardarm."

"Darling, we didn't expect you for another hour at least." Trish Burnett put her arms around her son.

"You're getting younger every time I see you."

"That's just you getting older."

"Hello, Harm." Frank extended his hand in greeting.

They exchanged pleasantries, then Frank went inside to get Harm's drink.

"So how's the gallery?" Harm asked Trish.

"Oh, it's a pain in the butt. You know, I think I'm supporting every starving artist from Tijuana to Ventura. How are Annie and Josh?"

"Well, I'm not seeing Annie anymore, Mom." Harm didn't bother to tell her the breakup occurred months earlier.

"I'm glad to hear that. She wasn't the one for you. How's Mac?"

"She's fine."

"She's really quite the girl, isn't she?"

"Don't start, Mom." The last thing he needed was his mother trying to play matchmaker, and he wasn't ready to answer her questions about his and Mac's relationship.

Frank returned at that moment, saving Harm from having to explain.

"So, Harm, what brings you to the West Coast? A case?"

"No, not a case. I found somebody who knew Dad in Russia."

"Russia? Your father died in Vietnam."

"I don't believe he did, Mom."

"Trish, there have been rumors of American POWs having been sent to the Soviet Union."

Harm removed the photo from his jacket and handed it to Trish. "This photo was taken in Siberia in 1980."

"Is it him?" Frank asked.

"Could be. I don't know. What do you intend to do?"

"Go to Russia, find him."

"Let it go, Harm."

"I can't, Mom."

 **JAG Headquarters  
September 14, 1998  
0800 Local**

Harm wasn't sure what the admiral would say when he learned the truth about the trip to San Diego, but he didn't expect the dressing down he received. In retrospect, he should have been upfront and honest. A. J. Chegwidden was a former SEAL who served in Vietnam. He wanted to know the truth about MIAs as much as anyone.

At least he hadn't outright turned down Harm's request for leave. Not that it mattered. No matter what Chegwidden decided, Harm was going to Russia. The fate of his father had gone unresolved for almost twenty-nine years. It was past time to learn the truth.

He walked back to his office to find Mac and Clayton Webb in conversation.

"Well?" Mac asked as he walked into the room.

"He said he'd take it under advisement." Harm walked to his wall safe.

"You're gonna go no matter what the admiral says, aren't you?" Mac stood, then left the room.

"You can reach me at this number, day or night." Clay handed Harm a slip of paper. "Just make sure you call from a secured phone. Our embassy's probably got the only one in Moscow. I don't think you'll find your father, Harm, but if you do—"

"You'll wanna be the first to know."

"I hope he's alive."

Harm looked up as Clay left the room. Sometimes the spook was full of surprises.

 **Dulles International Airport  
** **September 14, 1998  
** **2100 Local**

"Welcome to Aeroflot Flight 318 with non-stop service—" The sound of someone speaking Russian drowned out the flight attendant's announcement. Harm turned in the direction of the female voice.

"I'm sorry, I don't speak Russian. Well, isn't this a coincidence."

"Isn't it?" Mac's voice sounded a little sarcastic, yet cheerful.

"Whose idea was it?"

"Mine. And the admiral's, unofficially. You're on my seat belt."

Harm shifted in his seat.

"I speak the language, I can handle myself if things get rough, and you need someone to watch your six."

"Mac, I don't know where this is gonna lead."

"All the more reason for me to come. Harm, I'm not letting go alone. We're in this together."

Harm knew Mac well enough to know there would be no changing her mind.

"Thanks, Mac." The plane began backing away from the terminal.

"Oh, look, we're moving."

 _Next stop: Russia_


	15. To Russia With Love

_A/N: Finally, we're getting to Russia. As with previous chapters, some events will follow the episodes, but there will be changes. Ready to see our dynamic duo become a real couple? It's coming soon!_

 _To the reviewer who was concerned about Mac's marriage and the fact that she might be cheating with Harm, don't worry. This is Fanfiction. I'm not sure yet if Mac has even been married in this world. In any case, it won't be an issue. And now, for the story.  
_

 ** **To Russia With Love****

 **In Route to Moscow  
September 15, 1998  
0130 Local**

Harm shifted in his seat, trying to get into a comfortable position. The first-class ticket had cost him more money than he planned, but given he'd made the reservation at the last minute, wasn't unexpected. At least he was able to stretch his long legs better than he would have in coach.

He hoped to get some sleep during the near ten-hour trip, but so far, hadn't had any luck. Mac had fallen asleep within the first hour. Her head now rested on his shoulder.

It shouldn't have surprised him that she would come along. She had stuck by him when he was accused of murder and had prevented him from making one of the biggest mistakes of his life when he went after Holbarth. He had no doubt she would follow him to the ends of the earth.

A feeling of foreboding had overtaken him once they were in the air. Something he'd never felt while in a plane, but it had nothing to do with flying. For twenty-eight years, he'd wondered about his father's fate. Hoping—believing-he was still alive.

When Harm overheard others speculate on that December day long ago, he'd refused to believe his father was dead.

When his mother, wanting to get on with her life, had her husband declared dead, Harm refused to believe it.

When Trish married Frank Burnett, he felt as if she was betraying his father.

When a headstrong, determined sixteen-year-old heard about Col. Stryker, he didn't give a second thought about sneaking into Laos.

When he found the book containing his father's name on the Hornet, he knew his beliefs weren't unfounded. Harmon Rabb Sr. made it out of Vietnam alive. The photo someone sent anonymously proved his dad was alive in 1980.

In a few hours he would be landing in Moscow, and this time he wasn't leaving until he learned the truth. He believed his father would return home—something he'd longed for since 1969. Then why did he feel so apprehensive?

Mac stirred and Harm turned as her eyelids fluttered open. She blinked a few times as if trying to clear the cobwebs from her head. "Sorry, I fell asleep flyboy."

"It's okay. It's a long flight and who knows when we'll be able to get some rest once we arrive."

"Have you slept?"

"No."

"Harm, it's 0140. You should try to get some rest."

"How do you do that? You don't even know what time zone we're in."

"I told you it's a Marine thing."

"Along with a lot of other reasons. When are you going to tell me how you really do it." Harm smiled, then turned to look out the window.

"Something's bothering you." He jerked his head to look at Mac. "What makes you think that?"

"Because I know you. You've never had trouble sleeping on planes before."

"Guess I'm just too keyed up to sleep."

Mac was silent for a few minutes. "Harm, have you thought about what you're going to do if you find your father alive?"

"He is alive, Mac."

"For your sake, I hope he is. What about your mother? How will she react? She's built a life with Frank."

Harm looked into Mac's chocolate brown eyes. She could read him like a book. "I don't know, Mac. Guess that's the one thing that bothers me. When I went home to LaJolla, Frank and I had a chance to talk."

"What did he say?"

"He supported me coming to Russia more than Mom did—even offered to provide me with whatever funds I need."

"That's very generous of him."

"I never appreciated Frank the way I should have. It takes a big man to finance his stepson's quest to find the man who could destroy his marriage."

"Maybe he's confident in Trish's love for him."

"Frank told me my father's ghost had always been between them. He said Mom needs closure as much as I do."

"He cares deeply for her."

"Mac, what if Dad is still alive?"

"What's this 'if'? Only a few minutes ago you were adamant that he is alive."

"He is. He has to be. But now I'm wondering what it will do to Mom? She's been married to Frank a lot longer than she was to Dad. His coming home could destroy her marriage."

"Harm, you can't worry about that. If it comes down to making a choice, your mother will have to make that decision. Not you, not Frank, not your Dad."

"Frank has made her happy. My obsess—my insistence on finding Dad could destroy that happiness. What kind of son does that make me? A stubborn, selfish one."

"Harm, you're not—"

"Yes, I am, Mac. This entire thing has been all about me. Mom let me listen to another one of Dad's tapes while I was in LaJolla. The Navy shipped it home after he disappeared. He wanted her to go on with life if something happened to him. Wanted me to have a father. I never gave Frank a chance."

"Harm stop beating yourself up. Maybe you weren't fair to Frank, but losing the man you idolized when you were six-years-old couldn't have been easy."

Harm shook his head. "You don't need to make excuses for me. So, I may finally get what I've wanted for twenty-eight years. My father back. But at what cost? My mother's happiness? Her marriage? What's more, I may be putting the woman I— We may be in danger once we get to Russia."

Mac reached for Harm's hand and laced their fingers together. "Whatever happens, were in this together, flyboy."

 **Hotel Posolskaya, Moscow  
1830 Local**

Mac breathed a sigh of relief as they entered the hotel room. It had been a long flight, followed by a delayed landing. It took longer than expected to retrieve their luggage, and by the time they got to the hotel, all Mac wanted was a hot bath and a bed. Unfortunately, the hotel didn't have any vacancies. Fortunately, Harm was agreeable to sharing his room. After exchanging a few words with the desk clerk, Mac followed him upstairs.

"Flip you for the bed."

"You take it. I'll sleep in the chair."

Mac took one look and knew it wouldn't be comfortable for even a short person to sleep in. "No. We can share the bed. It's not like we haven't slept together before."

Harm raised his eyebrows.

Mac cleared her throat, trying to hide her embarrassment. "The night we spent in the mountains hiding from those poachers, remember?"

"Oh, yeah. You sure, Mac?"

"I'm sure. Anyway, I'm so tired I'll probably fall asleep the minute my head hits the pillow. You don't look much better, flyboy."

"Gee, thanks. I'll wait in the bathroom while you change into your pajamas."

"What pajamas?"

Harm jerked his head.

"Just kidding. Wait here. I'll change in the bathroom. Be right back."

She returned a few minutes later, wearing a long, white nightgown. She walked to the bed, turned back the covers, then crawled beneath them.

"You've got the right idea, Ninja Girl. I'll use the head and be right out."

Mac closed her eyes, only to open them a few minutes later when Harm returned wearing only boxers. She felt the mattress shift as he climbed in beside her. Maybe sharing a bed wasn't such a good idea. However, it didn't take her long to feel drowsy, and her eyes began to close.

Sometime during the night, Harm turned to face Mac. She moved closer to him, and he wrapped his arm around her waist. Spooned together, both of them fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.


	16. Partners and Friends

_A/N: Not much to say about this chapter. As you'll see, things are different than what we saw on the show._

 **Partners and Friends**

 **Hotel Posolskaya, Moscow  
September 16, 1998  
0520 Local**

Mac drifted slowly awake, snuggling deeper beneath the covers. Her internal clock told her she had been asleep for almost ten hours, which was somewhat unusual. However, she still wasn't ready to leave the warm bed or the warm body beside her.

Her eyes flew open. Harm! He lay on his back with one arm wrapped around Mac. Her head rested on his shoulder, her arm across his chest, and one leg flung over his. What's more, she felt his morning erection.

They had shared the bed last night, at her insistence, but she hadn't intended for them to get into such an intimate position.

She carefully slipped her leg from between his, not wanting to awaken him and cause one or both of them embarrassment. When she tried to extract herself from his arm, he mumbled in his sleep and tightened his hold on her.

"Don't go, Sarah."

Harm's voice was groggy, and she knew he was still half-asleep. He called her Sarah. She could count on one hand the number of times he'd called her by her given name. Each time it sent a little shiver of delight down her spine. But now was not the time for such thoughts. She needed to get out of this bed. Otherwise, she would be tempted to kiss him awake.

Once again, Mac tried to move from his embrace. Once again, Harm held her tight.

"Harm," she spoke softly.

No response.

"Harm."

Nothing.

"Harm! I have to use the head."

"Uh, what? Oh, okay."

Harm released his hold, and she scurried to the bathroom, thankful she had a change of clothes in there.

When she emerged a few minutes later, Harm was awake and sitting on the side of the bed, still wearing only his boxers. Mac decided to act as if everything was normal. Truth be told she was more than a little flustered. Now that she'd offered to share the bed, she couldn't turn him away. How was she supposed to get through the next few nights?

She took a deep breath. It was silly to think about it now. Depending on what they learned today, they may not be in Moscow another night. Putting on a smile, she said, "Morning, flyboy."

"Hey, Mac. What time is it?"

"0545."

"You're kidding! Did we sleep for ten hours?

"Nine hours and forty-seven minutes. Time to rise and shine."

"Mac, it's still dark outside."

"But I'm hungry. We didn't eat dinner last night, remember?"

"You and your stomach, Marine. Doubt you'll find anything like Beltway Burgers in Moscow."

"Harm, I don't eat Beltway Burgers for breakfast. But I do want something."

"Okay, let me get a shower, then we'll go downstairs. I'm sure we can find some artery-clogging food that will satisfy you." He grinned as he said the words.

She watched him walk toward the bathroom, noting his strong muscles of his arms and back. The man was buff. Her gaze drifted a little lower, and she felt her face grow warm when she realized she was staring at his butt.

Oh well. You did tell him you were here to watch his six.

 **Hotel Posolskaya  
1930 Local**

Harm paced the hotel room, trying not to think about Mac and her so-called "date." The past two days had been interesting. On the second night in Moscow, the cab driver Alexei had shown up outside their room and insisted upon taking them "out." They got to the car to find none other than Mark Falcon sitting in the back seat.

Alexei had driven the three of them to Lubyanka Prison. Falcon, or rather Sokol denied knowledge of the book tried to downplay the importance of the book containing the names of American POWs. He claimed to fear for their safety. Or rather Sarah's safety. Then he had the nerve to "remind" her of their "missed" dinner date.

Harm cringed every time he heard that SOB call Mac by her given name. It was the way he said it, much like Dalton Lowne. Falcon acted as if he and Mac had an intimate relationship.

He continued pacing the room. Mac had assured him she only accepted Falcon's invitation in hopes of gaining information, but he didn't trust the man.

Harm didn't like him from the time they first met on the Hornet. He wasn't sure if he could trust him. Falcon stealing the book confirmed those suspicions.

After Alexei had brought them back to the hotel, Col. Parlovsky was waiting. According to him Sokol was KGB and claimed Harm and Mac weren't safe in Russia, urging them to go back to the states.

They refused. Harm was too close to turn back now, even though he didn't have any more information than before he arrived. Sokol had agreed to trace the KGB number assigned to Harm Sr. Maybe he would tell Mac something. But he'd be damned if he allowed Falcon to charm his way into Mac's life. He'd stood by and allowed Dalton to seduce her. He wouldn't make that mistake again.

 **Moscow  
2000 Local**

Mac smiled politely at the man sitting across the table from her. After agreeing to have dinner with him, she'd begun to have reservations. After all, he did steal the POW book. He'd lied about his identity. And somehow, he'd learned they were in Moscow and had been all too eager to meet them.

They made small talk. Mark told her he'd grown up in Houston because his parents were there to spy on NASA.

"Spying runs in your family."

"If my father had been a pilot, I might be like your Commander Rabb. He's very special to you, isn't he?"

Mac paused for a moment before answering. Harm was special to her. In the past few months, they'd grown closer than ever. They were partners and friends, but not lovers. At least not yet. She chose her words carefully.

"Yes. He's the best partner I've ever had and could ever hope to have. He respects me, trusts me, and it's mutual."

"I wish you could say those words about me, Sarah."

"How could I ever trust you, Sokol?"

Mark reiterated both Mac and Harm were in danger. He mentioned Parlovsky. "He's dangerous and out to destroy me. Have you heard of him?"

"No," Mac lied.

"If you did, would you tell me?"

"If I could trust you."

"How can I gain your trust?"

"Help Harm learn the truth."

 **Hotel Posolskaya  
2230 Local**

Mac politely refused Mark's offer to join him for a nightcap. She'd accomplished what she set out to do—get him to agree to help Harm.

"Can I at least walk you to your door?" Mark asked.

"No thanks. I'm a big girl."

"That may be, but you're a beautiful woman, Sarah. I've already warned you that you could be in danger. Who's to say if someone is waiting in your room?"

"Someone is waiting in my room, but thanks for the offer. I trust you'll contact us when you know something." She turned, then dashed to the elevator.

She entered the room to find Harm lying on the bed with his hands clasped behind his head, wearing only jeans. He looked, for lack of a better word, delicious.

She swallowed hard, resisting the urge to kiss him senseless. "Hey, flyboy."

Harm sat up, then swung his feet off the side of the bed. "Mac. How did your date go?"

"Harm, it wasn't a date. I told you I agreed to go in hopes of finding information."

"And did you?"

"He agreed to help. Said he'd be in touch when and if he learned something."

"Guess that's the best we can hope for." He lowered his head. "I don't know, Mac. What if this trip was all in vain? I may never find my father. Maybe we should go back home."

Mac rushed to his side and put her arm around his shoulders. "Harm, don't talk like that. You've come this far."

" _We've_ come this far Mac. No one has ever done that for me before. I'll never forget that."

"There's no way I'm going to let you give up. Learning what happened to your father is too important to you. I'm with you all the way on this. After all, that's what friends are for."

"Is that how you see us, Mac? As just friends?"

Mac hesitated, unsure of how to answer. She _knew_ how she felt, but wasn't sure if this was the best time to admit her feelings. "Harm, maybe this isn't the best time for this discussion."

"No time like the present. I've put off letting you know how I feel too long."


	17. Midnight Confessions

_A/N: The latest update shows our fav couple finally coming together. Hope it isn't too sappy. I am not good at writing love scenes, so I'll just leave the end to your imagination._

 **Midnight Confessions**

 **Hotel Posolskaya  
September 16, 1998  
2300 Local**

 _Mac's POV_

I'm trying to ignore the tingle of excitement that's running through my veins. Seeing a shirtless Harmon Rabb is enough to send my libido into overdrive. Especially after waking up in his arms this morning. No man should look that sexy.

How am I going to sleep in the same bed as him tonight without—well, let's just say sleep isn't on my mind. Now he wants to talk. For months, I've wanted to finish the conversation we began about what happened on the docks at Norfolk. Harm said he was kissing me that night, not Diane. What does he think about me? Do his feelings go deeper than friendship?

I knew there was something special about him from the first time we met. He was willing to put his career on the line to save mine and defend a man he'd never met before. If I'm honest with myself, I fell in love with him at Red Rock Mesa.

 _Where'd you find this sailor, Sarah?_

 _In a rose garden, Uncle Matt._

Yes, we've had our share of ups and downs. I'll never forget the way he sandbagged me in court the first time we opposed one another. Even though I was furious with him, I couldn't help but admire his unrelenting quest for learning the truth. To Harm, that was more important than winning a case.

I couldn't stay mad at him, so I went to his apartment with my peace offering. I was a bit surprised at his suggestion we eat in the bedroom. It made sense with the rest of the place covered in sawdust. We teased one another as we sat on the bed, but I couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to kiss him.

We barely knew one another then, but by the time he saved me from those crazy poachers, I knew my feelings for him ran deep. Okay, he had to string me along about "Sarah." When I learned he named his Stearman for his grandmother, it told me something about his character.

Yes, he was often arrogant and had an ego as big as a Tomcat. I think it came along with his gold wings. I once told him they were overrated, but I didn't mean it.

Sometimes I wonder if the cocky attitude was to cover his true feelings. When I learned about his father, I knew he had a lot to deal with. Finding what happened to Lt. Harmon Rabb has been an obsession for him.

But that didn't explain the look on his face the first time we met. I'll never forget that look. I hadn't known about Diane then. If I had, I might have been more careful to guard my feelings. Falling for a man whose dead lover could have been my twin probably isn't the best idea.

Now it's too late. No matter how Harm feels about me, I can't deny I'm in love with him. What will I do if he doesn't feel the same way? Can I go on pretending to be just his friend and partner?

 _Harm's POV_

I can't help but wonder what's going through Mac's mind. She's standing across the room, wearing that little black dress. I've always thought a woman looked sexy in black. Mac makes all others pale in comparison.

And she'd worn the damn thing for her date with Falcon. Didn't matter she didn't consider it a date. I'm sure Falcon did. I don't want to think about his eyes ravishing her.

How and when did I fall in love with my partner? It wasn't supposed to work out that way. Since that disastrous fling with Kate, I've tried to guard my feelings. But somewhere in the two years since I met Mac, I've fallen in love with her.

I knew she was special from the first time we met. Yes, she looked like Diane, but it didn't take long for me to know the two of them were entirely different. As much as Diane said she cared for me, I doubt she would have come to Russia.

Mac is different. We are partners in every sense of the word— at least working partners. She's covered my six more times than I can count. I'm sure there have been times when she felt like shooting me, but she's stood by my side through thick and thin.

Who else would have harbored a fugitive the time I escaped from the brig? She defended me when that high and mighty Congresswoman Delong remarked on Mace's death. And Mac has supported me in the quest to find my father.

I can't deny my feelings for Mac any longer. But what if she doesn't feel the same way? Maybe she's content to remain friends and working partners. Yes, we've shared a few kisses over the past several months, but one could hardly call them the kiss of lovers.

When she invited me to share the bed, I'm sure she did it out of guilt or gratitude for allowing her to share the room. It probably wasn't the wisest thing to do. I have no idea how we ended up spooned together this morning, but it was a great feeling. I'd love to wake up with her in my arms every day. Thankfully Mac had the good sense to get out of bed when she did, giving me time to take care of my "little problem" and save both of us some embarrassment.

If she'd noticed, she didn't say anything. How the hell am I going to get through sharing the bed with her again tonight?

I have to lay it on the line with her and let the chips fall where they may. _Please, God. Don't let me screw this up._

* * *

"Mac, we have to talk."

"What about?"

"About us. I've put this off too long. I know you said we should probably wait, but I don't know what's going to happen. I think someone in the Russian government doesn't want us here. Who's to say we'll even get out of Russia alive?"

"Harm, don't talk like that. I don't think Russia would want to explain how two US military personnel died. We'll make it."

"I'm counting on that, but I don't want another day to go by without telling you my feelings for you.

"Maybe I should sit down."

Harm reached for her hand and drew her sit beside him on the bed. There were a few moments of awkward silence.

"Harm? You wanted to talk, remember?" Mac's voice had a teasing tone, but her chocolate brown eyes spoke volumes. She looked as if she didn't know whether to run and hide or stay and face the music.

"Uh, yeah." Harm cleared his throat. He'd swayed juries and gave convincing arguments in the courtroom, but he seemed to always be tongue-tied around Mac. He stood up and began to pace the room. _I can get through this._

"Come on Harm. I can' take the suspense any longer."

He turned to face her. "Okay, Mac. I'm in love with you." There. He'd said it. Now that the words had come out, he felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

"You what?"

Once the words started to flow, Harm found it difficult to stop. "I'm in love with you, Mac. I can't tell you when it happened, but it did. Falling for my partner wasn't something planned to do, and I know it could cause issues since we're under the same chain of command. You may not feel the same way—"

"Harm."

"I couldn't go on without letting you know how I feel—"

"Harm."

"If working together will be a problem then—"

"Harm!"

"What?"

"I'm in love with you too."

"You? You love me?"

"Yes, Harm. I love you. I think I did from the start. I didn't know how you felt and I—"

Harm crossed the room, then took her into his arms. "Mac, I've never felt about anyone the way I feel about you."

She looked up at him with her big brown eyes. "You mean that, don't you flyboy?"

"Yes, I do, Ninja Girl."

Their lips met in a searing kiss. Tongues dueled and hands caressed. Before long, clothes were thrown across the room, and they stood before one another naked. (Mac was a bit flustered that Harm wore button down jeans—a zipper would have been much faster.)

Harm took her by the hand and led her to the bed…


	18. In This Together

_A/N: Getting near to the end of this story. I figure two or three chapters more at the most. (Sound familiar, Minimindbender? Not much to say about this short chapter, so read and enjoy._

 **In This Together**

 **Hotel Posolskaya**  
 **September 17, 1998**  
 **0930 Local**

The two lovers lay twined together between the covers. As usual, Mac was the first one awake. Her internal clock told her it was half-past nine. She never slept this late, but then again, neither she nor Harm had gotten a lot of sleep.

This morning there was no awkwardness. Mac opened her eyes and looked at Harm's sleeping form. He seemed so relaxed in his sleep—not like a man who had been on an endless quest to learn the truth about his father.

Their initial joining had been fast and furious—too much pent up passion begged for release. Afterward, the two of them lay together and talked well into the night. Both confessed to times when they had wanted to take their relationship further. To Mac's surprise, Harm admitted he'd wanted to kiss her the time they ate dinner in his bedroom. Mac confessed to having fantasies about making love with him that night in the Appalachian Mountains. If hadn't been for her injury…

They made love a second time, this time slow, taking time to explore one another's bodies. Harm was particularly delighted to learn the location of Mac's tattoo.

"I told you once that was classified," she teased.

"So, do I have clearance now?"

"You bet, Flyboy. But only you."

"Damn straight."

They fell asleep in one another's arms only to awaken again by their hunger for one another. Now lying in his arms with her head on his shoulder seemed so natural. So right. Why had they denied themselves, turning to others in an attempt to satisfy their desires? After making love with Harm, Mac couldn't imagine ever being with another man. She'd heard the expression, "the last first time." As far as she was concerned, this was it.

She began to trace small circles on his chest, reveling in just the right amount of chest hair, flicking her fingers over his male nipples before drifting lower. How many times had she wondered what he looked like? He didn't disappoint. Now she could look and touch all she wanted. When her hand dipped below his navel, she felt him stir.

"What are you doing, Mac?"

"Want me to stop?" she teased.

"Hell, no."

Later, they lay snuggled together, their bodies covered in sweat. When Mac was finally able to catch her breath, she said, "I'm hungry. Going to feed me, Flyboy?"

"You and your stomach, Marine."

"I need my energy. So do you!"

"You have a point." Harm got out of bed, then started toward the bathroom.

"Hey, where are you going?" Mac pouted.

"To grab a shower so we can get you some food."

"If we shower together, we'll save time."

It came as no surprise to either of them that showering together did not save time. It was after eleven before they were dressed and ready to leave the room.

"Guess we missed breakfast," Harm said.

"Yeah, but it was worth it," Mac said as she gathered the articles of clothing that had been strewn around the room the night before. When she picked up her black dress, she noticed a slight tear on the shoulder.

"Sorry about the dress," Harm said. "Guess I got a little too impatient."

"Speaking of impatient, what's the idea of wearing button fly jeans? Thought I'd never get you out of them."

"Didn't know I would be ravished by a certain Marine this trip." Harm flashed his flyboy grin.

* * *

Waiting around wasn't something Harm had ever easily done. It was late afternoon, and they still hadn't heard anything from Falcon. After lunch, he and Mac walked around Moscow—neither was in the mood for sight seeing, but Harm had to do something or go stir crazy.

He wasn't concerned with Falcon finding him—Harm was certain the "former" KGB agent knew every move he made. His suspicions were confirmed when Alexei showed up at their hotel saying Falcon would meet them in front of St. Basil's Cathedral.

 **Moscow**  
 **September 17, 1998**  
 **1900 Local**

Harm reached to take the envelope from Falcon.

"You read Russian, Commander? It's the file on prisoner number S-394652."

Mac took the envelope and began to read. "…In 1980 he was transferred to Beloyka in northern Siberia where he—"

"He died." Harm tried to hide the disappointment in his voice.

"He escaped."

"My father escaped in 1980?"

"If he was your father. There's no name commander. It could be any one of the hundreds of thousands the KGB imprisoned."

"How many were held at an air force scientific test station? S-394652 is my father. How far is Beloyka?"

"Thirteen hundred miles."

"I'll leave first thing in the morning."

"We'll leave first thing in the morning."

"Mac, I can't ask you to come. It could be dangerous."

"I haven't come with you this far to let you go alone. I'm going with you. We're in this together, Harm. No matter what happens."

Falcon spoke to Sarah in Russian. "I never had a chance with you, did I?"

"Never." She turned and walked away.

 **Somewhere Near Lake Uchenskoya  
September 18, 1998**  
 **1530 Local**

If the trouble they had getting out of Moscow was any indication, Harm had been right about someone not wanting him to learn his father's fate.

Why had all the flights to Beloyka suddenly been canceled? Who was behind it? Sokol, Parlovsky, or both? According to Webb, they were "the same animal," former KGB agents who would stop at nothing to prevent Harm from learning the truth.

But thanks to Alexei and the generosity of Frank, Harm and Mac were now flying north in a MIG29.

"You okay, Mac?" Harm knew what flying at supersonic speeds did to her.

"Don't ask."

"Suck it up, Marine. Keep an eye on our six."

Harm got the radar working, and it wasn't long before he detected two incoming missiles.

"Is that what I think it is?" Mac asked.

"Yeah."

"What do we do?"

"Pray."


	19. Gypsy Eyes

_A/N: Okay, I know the writers of JAG had some type of aversion to our dynamic duo becoming a couple. They gave us bits and pieces, glimmers of hope, but no action. Yes, I know they did it for ratings, but in the process often made Harm and Mac look like idiots. I don't have to worry about ratings, so here goes…_

 **Gypsy Eyes**

 **Somewhere Near Lake Uchenskoya  
September 18, 1998  
1700 Local**

Harm slowly fought his way to consciousness. Where was he? What happened? Memories began to surface. A MIG29. Being chased by two Russian fighter jets. He managed to dodge the missiles once using a perfectly timed combat move. But even his skills as an aviator couldn't prevent them from being shot down. Being in a plane without ammo had its limitations. They'd had to eject and somewhere along the way he'd lost his helmet.

After his ramp strike, Harm hoped he would never have to punch out of a plane again. What was it he once told Mac? That each time you come out an inch shorter? Okay, not really but now he didn't feel so tall even though he was dangling by his parachute from the limbs of a tree.

Harm's instincts had been right. Someone didn't want them in Russia. But who? Major Sokol? Colonel Parlovsky? Someone higher? And where was Mac? If anything had happened to her…

He put aside those thoughts when he a male and female voice. He kept his eyes closed, not knowing who they were or what they were up to.

"He must be the one they're searching for."

"Maybe they'll give us a reward for finding him."

"Who? The Russians? No. They'll blame us. We're getting out of here."

"We can't just leave him hanging there."

"He's a Russian."

"I want the silk."

The next thing Harm knew the man came at him with a large knife. He kicked the man away, at the same time managing to untangle himself from the chute, then dropped to the ground.

The woman called out in Russian as the man regained his footing, then started toward Harm, stopping abruptly at the sound of gunfire.

Mac exchanged words with the woman, then rushed to Harm's side. "You okay?'

"Yeah. I'm a little woozy. Must have hit my head on something when we punched out. Lost my helmet. Don't remember much after that until I saw this man coming at me with a knife.

"They were trying to help."

"Anything broken?"

"Just my ego. Never been shot down before."

The gypsy woman spoke. "You were shot down?"

"You speak English?"

"We were raised in England. You American spy pilots?" The man asked.

"No." The unmistakable sound of rotor blades drew near

"Too bad," the woman said. "American spy pilots have gold coins for the people that help them."

Mac pulled a wad of money from her flight suit. "I'm afraid all we have are hundred-dollar bills. Lots of them."

 **Deep in the Uchenskoya Forest  
September 18, 1998  
1900 Local**

Money is a strange motivator. Once the two gypsies learned Harm and Mac had money, they readily agreed to hide them in their wagon.

Harm learned they were brother and sister. Vanya and Rusza had recently returned to Russia to join with the Romany living in Siberia. He and Vanya sat by the campfire. Mac and Rusza were in the wagon, obviously engaged in girl talk if their laughter was any indication.

"How far is it to Beloyka?" Harm asked.

"A month. Maybe two. We have to avoid the main roads. What's so important there?"

"My father was a KGB prisoner, and he escaped from a train near Beloyka."

"You're wasting your time. If he was alive why didn't he come out when the Soviet Union collapsed?"

"I hear there are villages in Siberia where people believe a czar still rules Russia."

"I don't doubt it. But if your father's gone so deep underground, finding him will be impossible."

"I have to try. Can't be more than a couple of days ride on the Trans-Siberian Railway. We'll pay you if you take us to a railway station."

Harm sensed Mac's presence nearby. When he looked up, she stood before him, dressed in an off-shoulder blouse and a skirt much like the one Rusza wore. With her coloring, she could easily pass for Romanian. His pulse quickened at the sight of her bare shoulders, and he wondered if she was wearing a bra. _Damn, Rabb. You've got it bad._

She held out her hand to him and smiled. "Tell your fortune, sailor?"

* * *

Mac and Harm lay snuggled together beneath blankets. Although they placed their bed on the opposite side of the wagon, far away from Vasya and Rusza as possible, the forest didn't afford much privacy.

But as new lovers, they found it hard to keep their hands off one another.

"Think they heard us?" Mac asked.

"Probably. You were pretty noisy, Marine." Harm teased.

Mac playfully slapped him on the chest. "You're so bad."

Harm quirked an eyebrow. "Oh, really? Last night you said I was good." His expression turned serious. "We're close Mac. So close to learning the truth. I feel it."

"I hope you're right, Harm. Whatever the outcome, you need to know the truth."

"I've spent the biggest part of my life wondering what happened to my father. I know the odds aren't good, but I haven't given up on the possibility he's still alive."

Mac snuggled closer and placed a light kiss on his lips. "We'd better get some sleep. We've got a big day ahead of us tomorrow." She couldn't tell him that she somehow sensed Harm Sr. was dead.

 **Deep in the Uchenskoya Forest  
September 19, 1998**  
 **0800 Local**

Although reluctant at first, Vasya and Rusza had agreed to take Harm and Mac to the train station at Perth—a day's journey. However, Rusza acted strangely this morning, stomping about the camp, tossing things, demanding Harm and Mac leave. It was only at Vasya's insistence she told them her vision. Harm didn't put much stock into it. As he'd said to Vasya the night before, the future wasn't in the reading of tea leaves.

When she finally calmed down, they heard the sound of the helicopter. Harm and Mac barely made it to the wagon before it flew over, but not quick enough. Harm saw Falcon, and he was sure Falcon saw them.

* * *

Traveling by wagon made the trip to Perm long, but soon they were at the train station. Harm and Mac waited for the brother and sister to purchase their tickets.

"Harm, we shouldn't get on this train."

"We can't wait two months to get there by wagon."

"I don't think we should go at all. If we reach Beloyka we'll disappear just like your father."

"Mac, we can't take two months to get there by wagon."

"I don't think we should go there at all."

"What? If we reach Beloyka, we'll disappear just like your father."

"Mac, don't let this Gypsy fortune-teller thing go to your head."

"Look at the odds, Harm. We're in the middle of Russia with Parlovsky or Falcon trying to stop us. We don't have identification papers, you don't know the language, and you have no plan other than to get us to Beloyka. Is that sound mission planning?"

"Chickening out on me?"

"That is a hell of a thing to say to me. Especially now that we're—"

"I know. I'm sorry, Mac."

"Answer my question. What is your plan other than to take a train to Beloyka? You're being driven by emotions, and those emotions are gonna get us killed."

"You can quit. I can't. My father is out there somewhere, and I'm gonna find him."

"Or die trying."

"Or die trying. But you shouldn't. You've come with me farther than anyone I know. I'll never forget that, Mac."

"Harm, I told you we're in this together. I may not think it's wise, but where you go, I go."

"Commander! Sarah! I know you can hear me. I'm here to help you. Someone else is looking for you. You're only chance is to come with me."

"He's going to expect us to go for the train. If we can get beyond it—"

"Harm, I believe him."

"Mac."

"If he was ruthless enough to shoot us, wouldn't he have strafed us on the road?"

"Commander Rabb. I'll get you to Beloyka. I'll help you find your father."

Harm hesitated. The sound of the approaching train was near. They could make a run for it."

 _And what happens if Mac gets hurt? Even worse, if she gets killed. Is finding your father more important than her life?_

His decision made, Harm took Mac's hand and stepped from the shadows.


	20. Finding Harm

A _/N: I didn't start watching JAG when it first aired. Gypsy Eyes was one of the first episodes I watched. I so wanted Harm to find his father alive, especially after I went back and watched reruns of earlier shows. The Season One episode, The Prisoner, gave him hope. And even though the Chinese officer admitted she'd given Harm drugs that made him believe he'd heard his father's voice, the writers left open the possibility of Harm Sr. Being alive._

 _But back to Gypsy Eyes. One thing that bothered me was the fact the older woman was the one who hugged and comforted Harm when he learned of his father's death. I always thought it should have been Mac. (Let's say it didn't take me long after I began watching JAG_ to _decide the two of them belonged together.)_

 **Finding Harm**

 **Moscow**  
 **September 19, 1998**  
 **2350 Local**

Even as the helicopter touched down, Harm wondered if he'd done the right thing. For all he knew Falcon, or Sokol, was leading them into a trap. But to have attempted to flee would have meant certain death. The weapons carried by those Russian soldiers weren't toys. Harm had no doubt they would have used them.

They waited for Falcon to get off the helo, then stepped out on the opposite side. Mark walked toward a car parked nearby. A chauffeur exited the vehicle, then opened the back door. None other than Colonel Parlovsky stepped onto the tarmac.

Harm and Mac walked toward them when chaos suddenly broke out. The chauffeur reached inside and pulled out a weapon, another car crashed through a gate, and gunfire erupted. Parlovsky shot Sokol, then pointed the gun at Harm, who was already brandishing the one Webb had smuggled him. He fired several rounds into the former KGB agent.

When everything was over the driver, Sokol, and, Parlovsky lay on the ground. Harm looked up to see Admiral Chegwidden walking toward him, followed closely by Clayton Webb.

"Admiral."

"You okay?"

"Yes, sir. Webb, what are you doing here?"

"Getting decked." The admiral spun around, then landed a hard right hook to Webb's jaw.

Harm turned back to the Russian agents. Sokol's wounds were superficial, Parlovsky's mortal. Harm bent down to him."Colonel, do you know what happened to my father?"

The older man gasped for breath, and Harm leaned closer to hear his words. "Svischevo."

 **Hotel Posolskaya**  
 **September 21, 1998**  
 **2000 Local**

Four days after their failed attempt to reach Beloyka, Harm and Mac were back in their hotel room. Things were chaotic after Parlovsky's death. Sokol had been treated for his wounds at a local hospital, then released. Harm shouldn't have been surprised Webb had ulterior motives for helping him. With Webb, there was always a quid pro quo. After wrapping up his "mission," the spook boarded a plane to the states.

Before heading back to Washington, the admiral graciously allowed Harm and Mac to stay on in Russia. "Both of you still have some leave time. No reason to turn back now. Finish what you came here to do, Commander."

The two of them planned to leave first thing the following morning for Svischevo. Neither one told their CO about the change in their relationship. They agreed this wasn't the time or the place but planned to talk to him when they got back to DC.

Harm lay on the bed, waiting for Mac. He was tired, having gotten very little rest the past couple of days but wasn't sure if he could sleep. He was too keyed up.

Mac emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, wearing the same white nightgown from their first night here. It wasn't the sexiest piece of lingerie, but seeing Mac wearing it turned him on. Instantly aroused, he looked down to see the tenting of the sheet. Mac noticed it too.

"Like what you see, flyboy?"

"You know I do."

She slipped beneath the covers, then snuggled close to him.

Harm drew her into his arms. Their lips met in a passionate kiss, and Mac opened her mouth to grant Harm's tongue entrance. His hands caressed her shoulders, dipping lower to her back before coming to rest on her six.

Mac's hands weren't idle either as she stroked his bare chest. The physical aspect of their relationship was still new, and both were eager to learn what pleased one other.

Harm's hands went even lower, grasping the hem of her gown and gently pulling it up. Mac raised a bit so that he could easily pull it off her. He tossed the gown over his shoulder, and it landed on the floor. "No panties?"

"Figured I wouldn't have them on very long, so I didn't bother. But one of us is overdressed." She quickly divested him of his boxers.

"There. That's much better." Mac continued to caress and kiss him, her hands going lower on his body until she soon touched him where he craved the most.

"Maaac. If you do that, I won't last long."

"That's what I'm counting on, flyboy. Just lay back and enjoy."

Much later, they cuddled beneath the sheets."Wow, Mac. That was…amazing."

"There's more where it came from."

Harm grinned. Who would have guessed beneath that prim and proper Marine uniform was a passionate lover? And why had he waited so long to find out? Maybe they should have acted on their feelings sooner. If so— Harm tensed. What if they had acted too soon? What if this hadn't been the right time. Here they were in a foreign country on a mission to find his father. What if Mac thought he'd only turned to her for comfort and support?

"Harm? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I— Sarah, you know I love you. This thing between us just isn't about sex. I don't want you to think—"

"Relax, Harm. I know you better than that."

"I want you to know that you mean everything to me. And not just because you came with me to Russia."

"I know that, Harm. You don't have to explain."

"It just that—this thing with my dad. I still don't know where it's going to lead."

"Nervous?"

"Scared. I'm afraid of how I'll react if I find out Dad is dead. Then again, I'm afraid of how it will affect Mom if I find him alive."

"It's only natural for you to feel that way. You love your father and your mother. You also care about Frank. I stand by what I told you the other day. No matter what the outcome is, you aren't responsible for what happens with your mom's marriage. That's between her and Frank. As far as this thing with us, it was destined to happen sooner or later. I'm glad it happened now."

Harm breathed a sigh of relief. When Mac had shown up on the airplane at Dulles, he was unsure about her coming on this trip. Now, he was glad she had. He needed her—in more ways than one. "Have I ever told you you're good for me,?"

"Not in so many words, but you can tell me again and again. And Harm?"

"Yeah?"

"You're good for me too."

 **Svischevo, Siberia**  
 **September 23, 1998**  
 **1030 Local**

It had taken two days of searching, but finally a woman came forward that claimed to have information about his father. He and Mac went to a small farm to meet her. She greeted them warmly, then motioned for them to follow her into the surrounding forest.

Harm listened as the older woman spoke in Russian while Mac translated.

"When I heard you were seeking your father in Svischevo, I knew it must be the man I called Tete. That was the name I gave the one who looked like you."

Anticipation flowed through Harm. He was close. So close to learning the truth.

Mac continued to translate. "I found him in the barn, nearly frozen to death and nursed him back to life. For two years, he worked the farm with me and my brother. We spoke Russian. He never told us who he was or where he came from. But I knew it was from far away because he seemed always to be looking to the horizon. I knew someday he would leave me."

 _He wanted to come home. Home to Mom and me._

They came to a small pool, and the woman went on speaking, pointing toward the water.

Mac paused, and her eyes moistened.

"What?" Harm asked. "What did she say?"

"She said this is where the three of them came to picnic the day Tete was killed."

Harm felt as if someone had punched him in the stomach. The woman's words extinguished his hope like a snuffed out candle flame. All the years of waiting had come to this?

Mac touched his arm. Her words, although unspoken, told Harm how much we wanted to comfort him.

He finally found his voice. "Tell her to go on."

Much to their surprise, the woman relayed a story much like Rusza's vision. Harmon Rabb Sr. Died while trying to save this woman's life, taking down three Russian soldiers before the fourth one killed him.

"Where is my father buried?"

The woman shook her head. "My brother took the bodies into the Taiga to bury them. I don't know where. He wouldn't tell me."

"Where is your brother now?"

"He died fifteen years ago. Chekhov said, 'The strength of the taiga does not lie in its giant trees and silence, but in that only migrating birds know where it ends. Only the birds and your father."

 _My father is dead. I'll never see him again. He was alive in 1980. While I wasted time in Laos, he was here. If only I'd known..._

Harm turned and stared into the forest. The body of Lt. Harmon Rabb was out there somewhere. There wasn't even a marked grave.

He felt Mac's presence before she placed her hand on his shoulder. He turned to her, tears in his eyes.

"Oh, honey I'm so sorry," she said. "I wish the outcome had been different for you."

Harm couldn't find any words. He merely nodded and drew her into an embrace. They wept for the little boy who lost his father. For the teenager who tried so desperately to find him. For the man who had lost his dream.

When their tears subsided, they walked to the edge of the forest. Hand-in-hand, they watched as the sun drifted toward the horizon.

"Good-bye, Dad. I love you."


	21. Finding Himself

_A/N: Many episodes of JAG left us wondering about the rest of the story. "Gypsy Eyes" left off with Harm standing in the Siberian forest saying goodbye to his dad. Next, we pick up with "Embassy" where he's packing away some of his father's things, and there's only a brief mention of how Trish took the news. I decided to end this story with Harm and Mac making a trip to La Jolla. Now for the last installment of "Finding Harm."_

 **Finding Himself**

 **Svischevo, Siberia  
** **September 23, 1998  
2230 Local**

Harm had politely refused Pitchta's offer for him and Mac to stay. Instead, they returned to the small hotel where they spent the previous night. Although Harm didn't say anything, Mac suspected he needed to get away from the place where his father died.

Pitchta had been sweet and understanding. She'd also shed a few tears upon seeing Harm's reaction to the news of his father's death. If Mac had to guess, she had been in love with Harm Sr. Not that Mac could blame her, if he had been anything like his son.

She finished brushing her teeth, then walked back into the bedroom. Harm sat on the side of bed wearing only boxers. His shoulders were hunched, and his fingers idly touched the MIA bracelet bearing his father's name.

His half-hearted smile spoke volumes. Gone was the trademark flyboy grin. The cocky naval aviator. The confident lawyer.

Mac sat beside him and took his hand.

"Did you call your mom?"

He shook his head. "No. I think it's best to tell her in person. We still have leave time. Let's get back to Moscow and see about booking a flight to San Diego."

"You want me to go with you?"

"Mac, do you have to ask that? Of course, I want you there. I…I need you to be there. But if you don't want to go, I understand. You'd probably like to save some of your leave for a nice vacation or something. This hasn't exactly been a fun trip."

"Harm. It's not that I don't want to go with you. I just thought you might want some time alone with your folks without me tagging along."

"Why would you think that? Mac, you're the most important person in my life right now. I can't imagine what it would have been like for me today if you hadn't been here."

"I'm glad I was. Just wish the circumstances would have been different."

"I knew the odds of finding Dad alive were slim, but I had to try. When they first told us he had been shot down, lots of friends and neighbors came to the house. In a way, it was like they had gathered for a funeral. I remember overhearing a couple of women saying it would be better to know he was dead than not knowing. I couldn't see it at the time, but they were right."

Mac squeezed his hand.

"All those years of waiting and hoping. It was hard for everyone. I think it would have been better if he'd been killed in action. At least he wouldn't have had to go through all those years as a prisoner. It couldn't have been easy for him."

"I wish I could do something to take away your pain."

Harm brushed his thumb over her cheek. "I know you do, Ninja Girl. It's going to take me a while."

Mac put her arm around his shoulder and felt the tension. "Hey, someone could use a back rub."

"Won't argue with that."

"Lie down on your stomach, and let me grab some oil from my bag."

Harm did as she asked. "Nothing floral scented, I hope. Wouldn't want to smell like a girl."

At least he hadn't lost his sense of humor. "It's patchouli. It calms the senses and helps balance your emotions."

Mac climbed onto the bed and straddled Harm, sitting on his hips. She poured some oil in her hand and began rubbing the kinks from his neck and shoulders, smiling as she remembered the time when he'd done the same for her after they'd stayed up all night trying to interpret the dossier on his father.

Even though they had both been fully clothed, Mac had felt a twinge of desire in her body. But he had been with Annie then, she with Dalton. Both had been settling. Dalton offered her a prestigious career and lifestyle, but he couldn't give her what she needed the most. Love. That was reserved for the man who now lay beneath her.

Mac worked her way down his back, lowering his boxers to allow access to his lower spine. She felt his tension ease, and soon his breathing became slower and more even. Carefully easing off him, she placed the bottle of oil on the nightstand, then turned off the light before climbing beneath the covers.

Harm turned in his sleep, wrapping an arm around her and drawing her closer to him. For the first night since becoming lovers, they didn't make love. It was enough for them to be together, secure in the love they shared.

 **San Diego, California  
September 25, 1998  
1715 Local**

Harm smiled when Mac took his hand as the jet touched down at San Diego International Airport. Both were weary after the twenty-hour flight. They'd had two stops—the first in Frankfort, the second in Denver. Although Harm usually had trouble sleeping on planes, both he and Mac had been able to catch some sleep.

It was a bittersweet homecoming. Much different from his trip a few weeks earlier when he met with Major Lushov. He'd left here so full of hope. Now his long-time dream of having his father back would never be realized.

In one way, he was relieved he would finally be able to give his mom the closure she needed. On the other hand, it saddened him that the man whom he had idolized his entire life would never be coming back.

"Is your mom expecting us?"

Harm shook his head. "The only reason I called Frank was that I wanted to make sure they would be in town. Didn't tell him anything, just that I had news."

"How far is La Jolla from the airport?

"About fifteen miles. Traffic will be thick this time of day, but we should be there in an hour or so.

"Does Frank know I'm with you?"

"Yes. He said he would have the housekeeper prepare the guest room for us. Mom's at the gallery and won't get home until just before we arrive."

Mac arched an eyebrow. "One room?"

"Well, he did offer two, but I told him one was enough."

"Harm, what will your mother think about us sleeping together? She might not—"

"Mac, I'm sure my mom has figured out by now that I'm not a virgin. She won't mind."

"Oh, so you're in the habit of bringing all your girlfriends and sharing a room?"

"Mac, I've never brought another woman home. When I was here earlier this month, Mom asked about you. Trust me. She'll be delighted. But if you're not comfortable—"

"No, I'll be okay. I just don't want your mom to think I'm a slut."

"Mac, she would never think that about the woman I love." He grinned. "Besides, it's better than me sneaking into your room every night."

"It's good to see you smile again."

"I'm getting there."

 **La Jolla, California  
** **1900 Local**

By the time Harm and Mac retrieved their luggage, went through customs, and secured a rental car over an hour had passed. Fortunately, traffic flowed smoothly, but it was almost two hours after landing before they reached their destination.

"Wow," Mac said as Harm turned into the driveway. "That's some house. I knew Frank was a VP for Chrysler, but I had no idea you grew up in something like this."

Harm shrugged. "We moved here shortly after Mom and Frank married. Believe me, we didn't always live like this." He turned off the engine, then took a deep breath.

"You ready for this?"

"I guess." He glanced at his watch. "They're probably on the terrace having drinks."

Mac took in the breathtaking view of the ocean as they walked to the back of the house. It was selfish of her, but she hoped they would have time for a swim while they were here.

As expected, Trish and Frank Burnett sat in lounge chairs, sipping before dinner cocktails.

"Guess I'm not too late for a drink," Harm said as he and Mac approached, hand-in-hand.

"Darling! Mac! " Trish rose from her chair and rushed to Harm. He let go of Mac's hand to receive Trish's embrace.

"What are you doing here? Not that I'm not happy to see you. When Clayton Webb told me the Russians claimed the two of you were in a plane crash…" Her voice sobered. "You have news, don't you."

Harm nodded.

"Why don't we all sit down," Frank extended his hand to Harm, then gestured toward a table. "Mac, Harm, can I get you something to drink?"

"Not for me." Harm said.

Mac followed his lead. "No, I'm good."

Harm waited until everyone was seated before he spoke. "Dad is dead, Mom. He was killed in Siberia in 1982."

Trish closed her eyes, then lowered her head, but not before Mac noticed the tears forming there. Frank reached for her hand. Everyone was silent while Trish silently wept.

When her tears stopped, Harm spoke. "I'm sorry, Mom. I—"

"Don't be. Deep inside I knew he was dead, but there was always a chance he was still alive. Darling, this might sound harsh, and I know it wasn't the outcome you wanted, but I'm glad it's over."

"Me too, Mom. Me too."

 **La Jolla, California  
2130 Local**

Trish Burnett had to be one of the strongest women Mac had ever met. She handled the news of her first husband's death with dignity and grace, while at the same time giving comfort to her son and assuring her second husband of her love for him.

Not only that but she seemed to sense Mac's initial unease and went out of her way to make her feel comfortable. Trish seemed to have a nurturing spirit—something Mac had missed out on while growing up.

Frank, who had known of Harm and Mac's visit, made plans to grill salmon steaks for dinner. The four of them dined on the terrace. After the chilly temperatures of Russia and Siberia, Mac welcomed the warm ocean breeze.

After dinner, they remained outdoors. Harm and Mac sat on a cushioned love seat while Trish and Frank sat in matching chairs opposite them.

"So," Trish said, taking note of Harm and Mac's entwined fingers. "What really happened in Russia?"

Mac had never known Harm to blush before. Not only that, he was at a loss for words.

"Trish." Frank admonished.

"Oh relax, darling. I'm not going to embarrass them. For what it's worth, I think it's wonderful. Last time Harm was here, I told him you were quite the girl."

It was Mac's turn to blush. "Thank you."

Harm finally found his voice. "Mac and I admitted our feelings for one another."

"Good. You're not getting any younger, Harmon Rabb, Jr. Time for you to settle down."

"Mom, we haven't even— we haven't told anyone yet, not even our CO."

"Could the change in relationship cause problems because you're in the same chain of command?"

Mac took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. The thought had crossed her mind, but they hadn't discussed it.

Harm squeezed her hand. "We plan to talk with the admiral when we get back to DC. There is a possibility that one of us will eventually have to transfer out, but we'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

"Whatever happens, don't let being in the military stand in your way of happiness," Trish said.

"We won't, Mom. I can guarantee you that much."

"Your Mom is right, son. The two of you seem like you're meant to be together. If you find even half the happiness that Trish and I have, you'll have a wonderful life."

"Thanks, Frank. That means a lot to me—to us."

The conversation was light the rest of the evening, but Mac soon found herself growing sleepy. She glanced at Harm who was also stifling a yawn.

"Tired darlings?"

"Yeah, a little jet lagged."

Trish stood. "Harm, you and Frank get the luggage and bring it to the guest room. I'll show Mac the way."

"Told you she wouldn't mind us sharing," Harm whispered as Mac turned to follow Trish.

 **La Jolla, California  
September 27, 1998  
1830 Local**

Harm and Mac spent most of Saturday catching up on sleep. That evening Frank took everyone out to dinner at one of La Jolla's finest restaurants. On Sunday morning, they ate brunch at the country club. Frank and Harm played a game of golf. Mac and Trish went shopping.

The four of them met back at the country club before returning home. Harm promised Mac a walk on the beach.

"You haven't lived until you've watched the sunset from here," he said.

They walked down the path and sat in the sand to watch the last rays of sun dip below the horizon. It was their last night in California. They had an eleven a.m. flight to Washington the next day.

"It's beautiful here," Mac said.

"Yeah. It was a nice place to grow up. Guess I didn't appreciate things when I was younger."

"How did it go today with Frank?"

"We had a good time. You know, that's the first time we've played golf together?"

"You're kidding me."

Harm shook his head. "Wish I was. I had too much anger and hostility toward him when I was younger. He wasn't Harmon Rabb, Sr."

"But you've put that behind you."

"Yeah, I have. Sometimes we have to lose things to appreciate what we have." Harm reached for Mac's hand. "I went to Russia to look for my father. I didn't find him but what I found was much more important. I found love."

He drew her to him and their lips met in a long, satisfying kiss. The need to breathe forced them apart. Harm stood, then helped Mac to her feet. "Guess we'd better get back inside. Mom was planning a light supper."

Together they walked arm-in-arm back to the house. Harm had lost his father but found something much greater. And somewhere along the way, he found himself.


	22. Author's Note

_From the author: The title of this story had a two-fold meaning—Harm's search for his father, but also learning things about himself. I began writing with the premise of him finding his father alive. Throughout the story, I teetered back and forth on which way to go, even researching the validity of Trish and Frank's marriage if Harm Sr. returned. (I'm a stickler for accuracy.)_

 _For those who might wonder, when a person is declared legally dead, the surviving spouse is of course legally free to marry. If the first spouse is later found alive, it doesn't nullify the second marriage. In that case, a legal declaration of death is, in essence, like getting a divorce._

 _Legalities aside, the reappearance of a spouse is bound to create other issues, as it likely would have done for Trish and Frank. Although we only saw him once on the show, I believe Frank was an honorable man who loved his wife and stepson. He had enough love to support Harm's quest to find Harm Sr. Frank wanted both of them to be happy, even if it meant the possibility of giving up the woman he loved. Somehow, I couldn't do that to Frank._

 _A big thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed. Special thanks to Minimindbender for her encouragement. To Erik for challenging me to write Harm Sr.'s story a little different. (Although I kept it as it was on the show, you gave me much food for thought). Hugs to all the Harm and Mac shippers—Nancy, Jackie, Isabel, April, Selanne, Allyson, Megan, Andrea, and Erma to name a few. (I apologize if I left anyone out, but know that I appreciate you all.)_

 _I hope you've enjoyed "Finding Harm." I have a sequel planned, but first plan to finish my post-season ten story, "Making Things Right." Until then, here's a snippet from the sequel:_

* * *

Mac walked across the bullpen into her office, taking note of the darkened one next to hers. Damn Bobbie Latham for recruiting Harm TAD to her office! All because some ZNN reporter claimed Marines were guilty of war crimes by using sarin gas.

The accusation was serious, and if it was true Americans had used chemicals to kill other Americans, the repercussions were enormous. Mac was just as eager as Harm to learn the truth, especially since Marines were involved.

But she didn't trust Bobbie Latham. Now, on top of everything, she had to pick up an Australian exchange officer at Dulles in less than forty-five minutes. It was turning out to be a hell of a day.


End file.
